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MAP OF THE DELUGED CONEMAUGH DISTRICT. 



HISTORY 



The Johnstown. Flood. 



INCLUDING 



ALL THE FEARFUL RECORD; THE BREAKING OF THE SOUTH FORK DAM; 
THE SWEEPING OUT OF THE CONEMAUGH VALLEY ; THE OVER- 
THROW OF JOHNSTOWN ; THE MASSING OF THE WRECK AT 
THE RAILROAD BRIDGE; ESCAPES, RESCUES, SEARCHES 
FOR SURVIVORS AND THE DEAD; RELIEF 
ORGANIZATIONS, STUPENDOUS CHARI- 
TIES, ETC., ETC. 

WITH FULL ACCOUNTS ALSO OF THK 



DESTRUCTION ON THE SUSQUEHANNA AND JUNIATA RIVERS, AND THE 
BALD EAGLE CREEK. 



tf 



WILLIS FLETCHER JOHNSON. 



ILLUSTRATED. 




EDGE WOOD PUBLISHING CO., 

1889. 



Copyright, 18S9, by 
WILLIS FLETCHER JOPINSON. 



PREFACE. 



The summer of 1889 will ever be memorable for its 
appalling disasters by flood and flame. In that period fell 
the heaviest blow of the nineteenth century — a blow 
scarcely paralleled in the histories of civilized lands. 
Central Pennsylvania, a centre of industry, thrift and 
comfort, was desolated by floods unprecedented in the 
records of the great waters. On both sides of the Alle- 
ghenies these ravages were felt in terrific power, but on 
the western slope their terrors were infinitely multiplied 
by the bursting of the South Fork Reservoir, letting 
out millions of tons of water, which, rushing madly 
down the rapid descent of the Conemaugh Valley, 
washed out all its busy villages and hurled itself in a 
deadly torrent on the happy borough of Johnstown. 
The frightful aggravations which followed the coming 
of this torrent have waked the deepest sympathies of 
this nation and of the world, and the history is 
demanded in permanent form, for those of the present 
day, and for the generation to come. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 
The Conemaugli Valley in Springtime — Johnstown and its Suburbs — 
Founded a Hundred Years ago — The Cambria Iron Works — His- 
tory of a Famous Industry — American Manufacturing Enterprise 
Exemplified — Making Bessemer Steel — Social and Educational 
Features — The Busiest City of its Size in the State, 15 

CHAPTER II. 

Conemaugli Lake — Remains of an Old-time Canal System — Used for 
the Pleasure of Sportsmen — The Hunting and Fishing Club — 
Popular Distrust Growing into Indifference — The Old Cry of 
" Wolf! " — Building a Dam of Straw and Mud — Neglect Ripening 
into Fitness for a Catastrophe, 31 

CHAPTER HI. 
Dawning of the Fatal Day — Darkness and Rain — Rumors of Evil — 
The Warning Voice Unheeded — A Whirlwind of Watery Death — 
Fate of a Faithful Telegrapher — What an Eye-Witness Saw — A 
Solid Wall of Water Rushing Down the Valley, 42 

CHAPTER IV. 
The Pathway of the Torrent — Human Beings Swept away like 
Chaff — The Twilight of Terror — The Wreck of East Conemaugh 
— Annihilation of Woodvale — Locomotives Tossed about like 
Cockle-shells by the mighty Maelstrom, 51 

CHAPTER V. 

"Johnstown is Annihilated" — Appearance of the Wreck — An Awfiil 

Sabbath SpecCacle — A Sea of Mud and Corpses — The City in a 

Gigantic Whirlpool — Strange Tokens of the Fury of the Flood — 

Scene from the Bridge — Sixty Acres of Debris — A Carnival of 

Slaughter, 66 

vii 



viii CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VI. 

Pictures of the Flood Drawn by Eye-witnesses — A Score of Loco- 
motives Swallowed up — Railroad Cars Swept away — Engineers 
who would not Abandon their Posts — Awful Scenes from a Car 
Window — A Race for Life — Victims of the Flood, 81 

CHAPTER VH. 

Some Heroes of the Flood — The Ride of Collins Graves at Williams- 
burg Recalled — John G. Parke's Heroic Warning — Gallant Self- 
sacrifice of Daniel Peyton — Mrs. Ogle, the Intrepid Telegraph 
Operator — Wholesale Life Saving by Miss Nina Speck, 97 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Stories of Suffering — A Family Swept away at a Stroke — Beside a 
Sister's Corpse — A Bride Driven Mad — The Unidentified Dead — 
Courage in the Face of Death — Thanking God his Child had not 
Suffered — One Saved out of a Household of Thirteen — Five Saved 
out of Fifty-Five, 108 

CHAPTER IX. 

Stories of Railroad Men and Travelers who were in the Midst of the 
Catastrophe — A Train's Race with the Wave — Houses Crushed like 
Eggshells — Relics of the Dead in the Tree tops — A Night of Horrors 
— Fire and Flood Commingled — Lives Lost for the Sake of a Pair of 
Shoes, ..,,,., 119 

CHAPTER X. 

•Scenes in a House of Refuge — Stealing from the Dead — A Thousand 
Bodies seen Passing over the Bridge — " Kill us, or Rescue us ! " — 
Thrilling Escapes and Agonizing Losses — Children Born amid the 
Flood — A Night in Alma Hall — Saved through Fear, 135 

CHAPTER XL 

The Flight to the Mountains — Saving a Mother and her Babe — The 
Hillsides Black with Refugees — An Engineer's Story — How the 
Dam gave away — Great Trees Snapped off like Pipe-stems by the 
Torrent, , . , I47 



CONTENTS. IX 

CHAPTER XII. 
A Desperate Voyage — Scenes like those after a Great Battle- 
Mother and Babe Dead together — Praying as they Drifted to 
Destruction — Children Telling the Story of Death — Significant 
Greetings between Friends — Prepared for any News, 154 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Salutations in the City of the Dead — Crowds at the Morgues — End- 
less Trains of Wagons with Ghastly Freight — Registering the Sur- 
vivors — Minds Unsettled by the Tragedy — Horrible Fragments of 
Humanity Scattered through Piles of Rubbish, 161 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Recognizing the Dead — Food and Clothing for Destitute Survivors — 
Looking for the Lost — The Bereaved Burying their Dead — 
Drowned Close by a Place of Safety — A Heroic Editor — One who 
would not be Comforted, 171 

CHAPTER XV. 
A Bird'seye View of the Ruined City — Conspicuous Features of the 
Disaster — The Railroad Lines — Stones and Iron Tossed about 
like Driftwood — An Army Officer's Valuable Services in Restor- 
ing and Maintaining Order, 179 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Clearing a Road up the Creek — Fantastic Forms of Ruin — An Aban- 
doned Locomotive with no Rail to Run on — Iron Beams Bent 
like Willow Twigs — Night in the Valley — Scenes and Sounds of 
an Inferno, = 188 

CHAPTER XVII. 
Sights that Greeted Visitors — Wreckage Along the Valley — Ruins of 
the Cambria Iron Works — A Carnival of Drink — Violence and 
Robbery — Camping on the Hillsides — Rich and Poor alike 
Benefit, 198 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
The First Train Load of Anxious Seekers — Hoping against Hope — 
Many Instances of Heroism — Victims Seen Drifting down beyond 
the Reach of Help — Unavailing Efforts to Rescue the Prey of the 
Flood, 207 



X CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XIX. 
Newspaper Correspondents Making their Way in — The Railroads 
Helpless — Hiring a Special Train — Making Desperate Speed — 
First faces of the Flood — Through to Johnstown at Last, .... 2i6 

CHAPTER XX. 
The Work of the Reporters — Strange Chronicles of Heroism and of 
Woe — Deadly Work of the Telegraph Wires — A Baby's Strange 
Voyage — Prayer wonderfully Answered — Steam against Torrent, 228 

CHAPTER XXI. 
Human Ghouls and Vampires on the Scene — A Short Shrift for 
Marauders — Vigilance Committees Enforcing Order — Plunderers of 
the Dead Relentlessly Dispatched — Outbursts of Righteous Indig- 
nation, 238 

CHAPTER XXII. 
The Cry for Help and the Nation's Answer — President Harrison's 
Eloquent and Effective Appeal — Governor Beaver's Message — A 
Proclamation by the Governor of New York — Action of the Com- 
missioner of Pensions — Help from over the Sea, 249 

CHAPTER XXIII. 
The American Heart and Purse Opened Wide — A Flood of Gold 
against the Flood of Water — Contributions from every Part of the 
Country, in Sums Large and Small, « . • 265 

CHAPTER XXIV. 
Benefactions of Philadelphia — Organization of Charity — Train loads 
of Food and Clothing — Generous spirit of Convicts in the Peni- 
tentiary — Contributions from over the Sea — Queen Victoria's sym- 
pathy — Letter from Florence Nightingale, 281 

CHAPTER. XXV. 
Raising a Great Relief Fund in New York — Where the Money came 
from — Churches, Theatres and Prisons join in the good work — 
More than One Hundred Thousand Dollars a Day — A few Names 
from the Great Roll of Honor, , , , . , 292 



CONTENTS. XI 

CHAPTER XXVI. page 
Breaking up the Ruins and Burying the Dead — Innumerable Funerals 
— The Use of Dynamite — The Holocaust at the Bridge — The Cam- 
bria Iron Works — Pulting out Ti-ees with Locomotives, 299 

CHAPTER XXVII. 
Caring for the Sufferers — Noble Work of Miss Clara Barton and the Red 
Cross Society— A Peep into a Hospital — Finding Homes for the Or- 
phans — Johnstown Generous in its Woe — A Benevolent Eating House, 309 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 
Recovering from the Blow — The Voice of the Locomotive Heard 
again — Scenes Day by Day amid the Ruins and at the Morgue — 
Strange Salvage from the Flood — A Family of Little Children, . . 319 

CHAPTER XXIX. 
The City Filled with Life Again — Work and Bustle on Every Hand — 
Railroad Trains Coming In — Pathetic Meetings of Friends — Per- 
sistent Use of Dynamite to Break Up the Masses of Wreckage — 
The Daily Record of Work Amid the Dead, 341 

CHAPTER XXX. 
Scenes at the Relief Stations — The Grand Army of the Republic in 
Command — Imposing Scenes at the Railroad Station — Cars Loaded 
with Goods for the Relief of the Destitute, 353 

CHAPTER XXXI. 
General Hastings' Headquarters — Duties of the Military Staff — A 
Flood of Telegrams of Inquiry Pouring In — Getting the Post-office 
lo Work Again — Wholesale Embalming — The Morgue in the Pres- 
byterian Church — The Record of the Unknown Dead — A Com- 
memorative Newspaper Club, 358 

CHAPTER XXXII. 
A Cross between a Military and a Mining Camp — Work of the Army 
Engineers — Equipping Constables — Pressure on the Telegraph Lines 
— Photographers not Encouraged — Sight-seers Turned Away — 
Strange Uses for Coffins', 370 

CHAPTER XXXIIL 
Sunday Amid the Ruins — Services in One Church and in the Open 
Air — The Miracle at the Church of the Immaculate Conception — 
Few Women and Children Seen — Disastrous Work of Dynamite— 
A Happy Family in the Wreck, 378 



xii CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. fagb 
Plans for the Future of Johnstown — The City to be Rebuilt on a Fin» 
Scale than Ever Before — A Real Estate Boom Looked For — En- 
larging the Conemaugh — Views of Capitalists, .* 387 

CHAPTER XXXV. 
Well-known People who Narrowly Escaped the Flood — Mrs. Hal- 
ford's Experience — Mrs. Childs Storm-bound — Tales Related by 
Travelers — A Theatrical Company's Plight, 393 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 
The Ubiquitous Reporter Getting There — Desperate Traveling through 
a Storm-swept Country — Special Trains and Special Teams — Climb- 
ing Across the Mountains — Rest for the Weary in a Hay Mow, . . 402 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 
The Reporter's Life at Johnstown — Nothing to Eat, but Much to Do- 
Kindly Remembrances of a Kindly Friend — Driven from Bed by 
Rats — Three Hours of Sleep in Seventy-two — A Picturesque Group, 410 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
Williamsport's Great Losses — Flooded with Thirty-four Feet of Water 
— Hundreds of Millions of Feet of Lumber Swept Away — Loss of 
Life — Incidents of Rescue and of Death — The Story of Garret 

Crouse and his Gray Horse, 421 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 
The Juniata Valley Ravaged by the Storm — Losses at Tyrone, Hunt- 
ingdon and Lewistown — Destruction at Lock Haven — A Baby's 
Voyage Down Stream — Romantic Story of a Wedding, 435 

CHAPTER XL. 
The Floods along the Potomac — The National Capital Submerged — 
A Terrible Record in Maryland — Gettysburg a Sufferer — Tidings 
of Devastation from Many Points in Several States, 444 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, 



Map of the Deluged Conemaugh District, i 

Johnstown as Left by the Flood, 19 

Ruins of Johnstown Viewed from Prospect Hill, 37 

General View of the Ruins, Looking up Stony Creek, . . . -55 

Ruins, Showing the Path of the Flood, 73 

Typical Scene in Johnstown, 91 

Johnstown — View Corner of Main and Clinton Streets, . . 109 

View on Clinton Street, Johnstown, 127 

Main and Clinton Streets, Looking Southwest, 145 

Ruins, corner of Clinton and Main Streets, 163 

Ruins, from Site of the Hulburt House, 181 

The Debris above the Pennsylvania Railroad Bridge, . . . 199 

Ruins of the Cambria Iron Works, 217 

Ruins of the Cambria Iron Company's Store, 235 

Third Street, Williamsport, Pa., During the Flood, .... 253 

Wreck of the Iron Bridge at Williamsport, Pa., 271 

Wreck of the Lumber Yards at Williamsport, Pa., 289 

xiii 



XIV LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

FASE 

250,000,000 Feet of Logs Afloat in the Susquehanna 307 

Last Trains in and out of Harrisburg, 325 

Columbia, Pa., under the Flood, 343 

Pennsylvania Avenue at Sixth Street, Washington, D. C, . 361 

Seventh Street, Washington, D. C, in the Flood, 379 

Fourteenth Street, Washington, D. C, in the Flood, . . . 397 
The Flood in Washington, D. C, Opposite Harris's Theatre, . 415 



CHAPTER I. 

Springtime in the mountains. Graceful slopes 
and frowning precipices robed in darkest green of 
hemlock and spruce. Open fields here and there 
verdant with young grass and springing grain, or 
moist and brown beneath the plow for the plant- 
ing time. Hedgerow and underwood fragrant 
with honeysuckle and wild blackberry bloom ; 
violets and geraniums purpling the forest floor. 
Conemaugh creek and Stony creek dash and 
plunge and foam along their rocky channels to 
where they unite their waters and form the Cone- 
maugh river, hastening down to the Ohio, to the 
Mississippi, to the Mexican Gulf. Trout and pick- 
erel and bass flash their bronze and silver armor 
in the sparkling shallows of the streams and in 
the sombre and placid depths of the lake up 
yonder behind the old mud dam. Along the val- 
ley of the Conemaugh are ranged villages, towns, 
cities : Conemaugh, Johnstown, Cambria, Sang 
Hollow, Nineveh, and others, happy and prosper- 

15 



I 6 THE. JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 

ous, Conemaugh nestles at the very foot of the 
Alleghenies ; all railroad trains eastward bound 
stop there to catch their breath before beginning 
the long climb up to Altoona. Sang Hollow 
nestles by the river amid almost tropical luxuri- 
ance of vegetation ; yon little wooded islet in mid- 
stream a favorite haunt of fishermen. Nineveh is 
rich in bog iron and coal, and the whirr of the 
mill-wheel is heard. Johnstown, between the two 
creeks at their junction, is the queen city of the 
valley. On either side the creek, and beyond, the 
steep mountain sides ; behind, the narrow valley 
reaching twenty miles back to the lake ; before, 
the Conemaugh river just beginning its romantic 
course. Broken hillsides streaked with torrents 
encompass it. Just a century ago was Johnstown 
founded by one Joseph Johns, a German settler. 
Before then its beauteous site was occupied by an 
Indian village, Kickenapawling. Below this was 
the head of navigation on the Conemaugh. Hither 
came the wap^oners of the Alleghenies, with huo-e 
wains piled high with merchandise from seaboard 
cities, and placed it on flat-bottomed boats and 
started it down the river-way to the western mar- 
kets. The merchandise came up from Philadel- 
phia and Baltimore by river, too ; up the Susque- 
hanna and Juniata, to the eastern foot-hills, and 
there was a great portage from the Juniata to the 
Conemaugh ; the Kittanning Trail, then the Franks 



THE JOHNS TO IV N FL OOD. I 7 

town Turnpike. Later came the great trunk rail- 
road whose express trains now go roaring down 
the valley, 

Johnstown is — nay, Johnstown was ! — a busy 
and industrious place. The people of the town 
were the employees of the Cambria Iron and Steel 
Company, their families, and small storekeepers. 
There was not one rich man in the town. Three- 
quarters of the 28,000 people lived in small frame 
tenement houses on the flats by the river around 
the works of the Cambria Company, The Cam- 
bria Company owns almost all the land, and the 
business and professional men and the superin- 
tendents of the company live on the hills away up 
from the creeks. The creeks become the Cone- 
maugh river right at the end of the town, near 
where the big stone Pennsylvania Railroad bridge 
crosses the river. 

The borough of Johnstown was on the south 
bank of Conemau^h creek, and the east bank of 
Stony creek, right in the fork. It had only about 
a third of the population of the place. It had 
never been incorporated with the surrounding- 
villages, as the Cambria Company, which ovv^ned 
most of the villages and only part of Johnstown, 
did not wish to have them consolidated into one 
city. 

Conemaughwas the largest village on the creek 
between the lake and Johnstown, It is often 



1 8 THE JOHNSTO WN FL O OD. 

spoken of as part of Johnstown, though its rail- 
road station is two or three miles up the creek from 
the Johnstown station. The streets of the two 
towns run into each other, and the space between 
the two stations is well built up along the creek. 
Part of the Cambria Iron and Steel Company's 
works are at Conemaugh, and five or six thou- 
sand of the workinemen and their families lived 
there. The business was done in Johnstown 
borough, where almost all the stores of Johns- 
town city were. 

The works of the Cambria Company were 
strung along from here down into Johnstown 
proper. They were slightly isolated to prevent a 
hre in one spreading to the others, and because 
there was not much flat land to build on. The 
Pennsylvania road runs along the river, and the 
works were built beside it. 

Between Conemaugh and Johnstown borough 
was a strino- of tenements along- the river which 
was called Woodvale. Possibly 3000 workmen 
lived in them. They were slightly built of wood, 
many of them without cellars or stone foundations. 
There were somxe substantially built houses in the 
borougrh at the fork. Here the fiats widen out 
somewhat, and they had been still further increased 
in extent by the Cambria Company, which filled 
up part of the creek beds with refuse and the 
ashes from their works. This narrowed the beds 



THE JOHNSTO WN FL OOD. 21 

of the creeks. The made land was not far above 
the water at ordinary times. Even during the 
ordinary spring- floods tlie waters rose so high that 
It flowed into the ceUars of the tenements, and at 
times into the works. The natural land was 
occupied by the business part of the town, where 
the stores were and the storekeepers had their 
residences. The borough had a population of 
about 9000. On the north bank of the river 
were a third as many more people living in tene- 
ments built and owned by the Cambria Company. 
Further down, below the junction of the two 
creeks, along both banks of the Conemaugh 
river, were about 4000 employees of the Cam- 
bria Company and their families. The place where 
they lived was called Cambria or Cambria City. 
All these villages and boroughs made up what Is 
known as the city of Johnstown. 

The Cambria Company employed about 4000 
men In its works and mines. Besides these were 
some railroad shops, planing mills, flour mills,, 
several banks and newspapers. Only the men 
employed by the Cambria Company and their 
families lived on the flats and made ground. The 
Cambria Company owned all this land, and made 
it a rule not to sell it, but to lease it. The com- 
pany put rows of two-story frame tenements close 
together, on their land close to the works, the 
cheaper class of tenements in solid blocks, to 



2 2 THE JOHNSTO WN FL O OD. 

cheapen their construction. The better tenements 
were separate buildings, with two famihes to the 
house. The tenements rented for from ^5 to ^15 
a month, and cost possibly, on the average, $500 
to build. They were all of wood, many of them 
without cellars, and were built as cheaply as pos- 
sible. The timbers were mostly pine, light and 
inflammable. It was not an uncommon thing for 
a fire to break out and to burn one or two rows 
of tenements. But the different rows were not 
closely bunched, but were sprinkled around in 
patches near the separate works, and it was 
cheaper for the company to rebuild occasionally 
than to put up brick houses. 

Besides owning the flats, the Cambria Company 
owned the surrounding hills. In one of the hills 
is limestone, in another coal, and there is iron ore 
not far away. The company has narrow-gauge 
roads runnino- from its mines down to the works. 

o 

The city was at the foot of these three hills, 
which meet in a double V shape. Conemaugh 
creek flowing down one and Stony creek flowing 
down the other. The hills are not so far distant 
that a man with a rifle on any one could not shoot 
to either of the others. They are several hundred 
feet high and so steep that roads run up them by 
a series of zigzag grades. Few people live on 
these hills except on a small rise of ground across 
the river from Johnstown. In some places the 



THE JOHNSTO WiY FL OOD. 23 

company has leased the land for dwelling houses, 
but It retains the ownership of the land and of the 
coal, iron and limestone in it. The flats having 
all been occupied, the company In recent years 
had put up some tenements of a better class on 
the north bank of the river, higher up than the 
flood reached. The business part of the town 
also was higher up than the works and the tene- 
ments of the company. 

In normal times the river is but a few hundred 
feet wide. The bottom is stony. The current is 
so fast that there is little deposit along the bank. 
It is navigable at no time, though in the spring a 
good canoeist might go down It if he could steer 
clear of the rocks. In the summer the volume of 
water diminishes so much that a boy with a pair 
of rubber boots on can wade across without get- 
ting his feet wet, and there have been times when 
a good jumper could cross the river on the dry 
stones. Below Johnstown, after Stony creek has 
joined the Conemaugh creek, the volume of water 
increases, but the Conemaugh throughout its 
whole leno-th Is nothino; but a mountain stream, 
dry in the summer and roaring In the spring. It 
runs down Into the KIskiminltas river and into the 
Allegheny river, and then on to Pittsburgh. It is 
over TOO miles from Johnstown to Pittsburgh fol- 
lowing the windlnos of the river, twice as far as 
the stralg-ht line. 

o 



24 THE JOHNSTO WN FL O OD. 

Johnstown was one of the busiest towns of its 
size in the State, Its tonnage over the Pennsyl- 
vania and Baltimore and Ohio roads was larger 
than the tonnage of many cities three times its 
size. The Iron and Steel Company is one of the 
largest iron and steel corporations in the world. 
It had its main rolling mills, Bessemer steel works, 
and wire works at Johnstown, though it also has 
works in other places, and owns ore and coal 
mines and leases in the South, in Michigan, and in 
Spain, besides its Pennsylvania works. It had in 
Johnstown and the surrounding villages 4000 or 
5000 men usually at work. In flush times it has 
employed more than 6000. So important was the 
town from a railroad point of view that the Balti- 
more and Ohio ran a branch from Rockwood, on 
its main line to Pittsburgh, up to Johnstown, forty- 
five miles. It was one of the main freight stations 
on the Pennsylvania road, though the passenger 
business was so small in proportion that some ex- 
press trains do not stop there. The Pennsylvania 
road recently put up a large brick station, which 
was one of the few brick buildings on the flats. 
Some of the Cambria Company's offices were also 
of brick, and there was a brick lodging house for 
young men in the employ of the company. The 
Pennsylvania road had repair shops there, which 
employed a few hundred men, and the Baltimore 
and Ohio branch had some smaller shops. 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL OOD. 25 

Johnstown had several CathoHc and Presbyte- 
rian, Methodist, Baptist, and Lutheran churches. 
It had several daily and weekly papers. The chief 
were the Tribune, the Democrat, and the Freie 
Presse. 

The Cambria Iron Works, the great industry of 
Johnstown, originated in a few widely separated 
charcoal furnaces built by pioneer iron workers in 
the early years of the century. As early as 1803 
General Arthur St. Clair engaged in the iron 
business, and erected the Hermitage furnace about 
sixteen miles from the present site of Johnstown. 
In 1809 the working of ores was begun near 
Johnstown. These were primitive furnaces, where 
charcoal was the only fuel employed, and the raw 
material and product were transported entirely on 
wagons, but they marked the beginning of the 
manufacture of iron in this country. 

The Cambria Iron Company was chartered 
under the general law in 1852, for the operation of 
four old-fashioned charcoal furnaces in and near 
Johnstown, which was then a village of 1300 in- 
habitants, to which the Pennsylvania railroad had 
just been extended. In 1853 the construction of 
four coke furnaces was begun, but it was two 
years before the first was finished. England was 
then shipping rails into this country under a low 
duty, and the iron industry here was struggling 
for existence. The company at Johnstown was 



2 6 THE JOHNS TO VVN FLOOD. 

aided by a number of Philadelphia merchants, but 
was unable to continue in business, and suspended 
in 1854. At a meeting of the creditors in Phila- 
delphia soon afterward a committee was appointed, 
with Daniel J. Morrell as Chairman, to visit the 
works at Johnstown and recommend the best 
means, if any, to save themselves from loss. In 
his report, Mr. Morrell strongly urged the Phila- 
delphia creditors to invest more money and con- 
tinue the business. They did so, and Matthew 
Newkirk was made President of the company. 
The company again failed in 1855, and Mr. Mor- 
rell then associated a number of gentlemen with 
him, and formed the firm of Wood, Morrell & 
Co., leasing the works for seven years. The year 

1856 was one of great financial depression, and 

1857 was worse, and, as a further discouragement, 
the large furnace was destroyed by fire in June, 
1857. In one week, however, the works were 
in operation again, and a brick building was soon 
constructed. When the war came, and with it the 
Morrill tariff of 1861, a broader field was opened 
up, and in 1862 the present company was formed. 

The years following the close of the war brought 
about an unprecedented revival in railroad build- 
ing. In 1864 there were but 33,908 miles of rail- 
road in the United States, while in 1874 there were 
72,741 miles, or more than double. There was a 
great demand for English steel rails, which ad- 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL OOD. 2 J 

vanced to $170 per ton. Congress imposed a 
duty of ^28 a ton on foreign rails, and encour- 
aged American manufacturers to go into the busi- 
ness. The Cambria Company began the erection 
of Bessemer steel works in 1869, and sold the 
first steel rails in 1871, at $104 a ton. 

The company had 700 dwelling-houses, rented 
to employees. The works and rolling mills of the 
company were situated upon what was originally 
a river fiat, where the valley of the Conemaugh 
expanded somewhat, just below Johnstown, and 
now part of Millville. The Johnstown furnaces, 
Nos. I, 2, 3 and 4, formed one complete plant, 
with stacks 75 feet high and 16 feet in diameter at 
the base. Steam was generated in forty boilers 
fired by furnace gas, for eight vertical, direct-acting 
blowing engines. Nos. 5 and 6 blast furnaces 
formed together a second plant, with stacks 75 
feet high and 19 feet in diameter. The Bessemer 
plant was the sixth started in the United States 
(July, 1871). The main building was 102 feet in 
width by 165 feet in length. The cupolas were 
six in number. Blast was supplied from eight 
Baker rotary pressure blowers, driven by engines 
16x24 inches at iio revolutions per minute. 
The Bessemer works were supplied with steam by 
a battery of twenty-one tubular boilers. The best 
average, although not the very highest work 
done in the Bessemer department, was 103 heats 



2 8 THE JOHNS TO WN FL O OD. 

of 8^ tons each for each twenty-four hours. The 
best weekly record reached 4847 tons of ingots, 
and the best monthly record 20,304 tons. The 
best daily output was 900 tons of ingots. All 
grades of steel were made in the converters, from 
the softest wire and bridge stock to spring stock. 
The open-hearth building, 120X 155 feet, contain- 
ing three Pernot revolvino- hearth furnaces of fif- 
teen tons capacity each, supplied with natural gas. 
The rolling mill was 100 feet in width by 1900 
feet in length, and contained a 24-inch train of 
two stands of three-high rolls, and a ten-ton trav- 
eling crane for changing rolls. The product of 
the mill was 80,000 pounds per turn. The bolt 
and nut works produced 1000 kegs of finished 
track bolts per month, besides machine bolts. 
The capacity of the axle shop was 100 finished 
steel axles per day. The " Gautier steel depart- 
ment" consisted of a brick building 200 x 50 feet, 
where the wire was annealed, drawn and finished ; 
a brick warehouse 373x43 feet, many shops, 
offices, etc. ; the barb-wire mill, 50 x 250 feet, where 
the celebrated Cambria link barb wire was made, 
and the main merchant mill, 725 x 250 feet. These 
mills produced wire, shafting, springs, plough- 
shares, rake and harrow teeth, and other kinds of 
agricultural implement steel. In 1887 they pro- 
duced 50,000 tons of this material, which was 
marketed mainly in the Western States. Grouped 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 29. 

with the principal mills thus described were the 
foundries, pattern and other shops, draughting 
offices and time offices, etc., all structures of a 
firm and substantial character. 

The company operated about thirty-five miles of 
railroad tracks, employing in this service twenty- 
four locomotives, and owned 1500 cars. To the 
large bodies of mountain land connected with the 
old charcoal furnaces additions have been made of 
ores and coking coals, and the company now 
owns in fee simple 54,423 acres of mineral lands. 
It has 600 beehive coke ovens in the Connellsville 
district, and the coal producing capacity of the 
mines in Pennsylvania owned by the company is 
815,000 tons per year. 

In continuation of the policy of Daniel J. Mor- 
rell, the Cambria Iron Company has done a great 
deal for its employees. The Cambria Library was 
erected by the Iron Company and presented to the 
town. The building was 43 x 68^ feet, and con- 
tained a library of 6914 volumes. It contained a 
large and valuable collection of reports of the 
United States and the State, and it is feared that 
they have been greatly damaged. The Cambria 
Mutual Benefit Association is composed of em- 
ployees of the company, and is supported by it. The 
employees receive benefits when sick or injured, 
and in case of death their families are provided 
for. The Board of Directors of this association 



30 THE JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 

also controls the Cambria Hospital, which was 
erected by the Iron Company in 1866, on Prospect 
Hill, in the northern part of the town. The com- 
pany also maintained a club house, and a store 
which was patronized by others, as well as by its 
employees. 



CHAPTER II. 

Twenty miles up Conemaugh creek, beyond 
the workingmen's villages of South Fork and 
Mineral Point, was Conemaugh lake. It was a 
part of the old and long disused Pennsylvania 
Canal system. At the head of Conemaugh creek, 
back among the hills, three hundred feet or more 
above the level of Johnstown streets, was a small, 
natural lake. When the canal was building, the 
engineers took this lake to supply the western 
division of the canal which ran from there to Pitts- 
burgh. The Eastern division ended at Hollidays- 
burgh east of the summit of the Alleghanies, 
where there was a similar reservoir. Between the 
two was the old Portage road, one of the first 
railroads constructed in the State. The canal was 
abandoned some years ago, as the Pennsylvania 
road destroyed its traffic. The Pennsylvania 
Company got a grant of the canal from the State. 
Some years after the canal was abandoned the 
Hollidaysburgh reservoir was torn down, the 

31 



3 2 THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 

water gradually escaping into the Frankstown 
branch of the Juniata river. The people of the 
neighborhood objected to the existence of the 
reservoir after the canal was abandoned, as little 
attc ntion was paid to the structure, and the farmers 
in the valley below feared that the dam would 
break and drown them. The water was all let out 
of that reservoir about three years ago. 

The dam above Johnstown greatly increased 
the small natural lake there. It was a pleasant 
drive from Johnstown to the reservoir. Boating 
and fishing parties often went out there. Near 
the reservoir is Cresson, a summer resort owned 
by the Pennsylvania road. Excursion parties are 
made up in the summer time by the Pennsylvania 
Company, and special trains are run for them from 
various points to Cresson. A club called the 
South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club was organ- 
ized some years ago, and got the use of the lake 
from the Pennsylvania Company. Most of the 
members of the club live in Pittsburgh, and are 
prominent iron and coal men. Besides them 
there are some of the officials of the Pennsylvania 
road among the members. They increased the 
size of the dam until it was not far from a hundred 
feet in height, and its entire length, from side to 
side at the top, was not far from nine hundred feet. 
This increased the size of the lake to three miles 
in length and a mile and a quarter in width. It 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 33 

was an irregular oval in shape. The volume of 
water in it depended on the time of the year. 

Some of the people of Johnstown had thought 
for years that the dam might break, but they did 
not think that its breaking would do more than 
flood the flats and damage the Vv^orks of the Cam- 
bria Company. 

When the Hunting and Fishing Club bought 
the site of the old reservoir a section of 150 feet 
had been washed out of the middle. This was 
rebuilt at an expense of ^17,000 and the work 
was thought to be very strong. At the base it 
was ■ii'^o feet thick and gradually tapered until at 
the top it was about 35 feet thick. It was con- 
sidered amply secure, and such faith had the mem- 
bers of the club in its stability that the top of the 
dam was utilized as a driveway. It took two years 
to complete the work, men being engaged from 
'79 to '81. While it was under process of con- 
struction the residents of Johnstown expressed 
some fears as to the solidity of the work, and 
requested that it be examined by experts. An 
engineer of the Cambria Iron Works, secured 
through Mr. Morrell, of that institution, one pro- 
vided by Mr. Pitcairn, of the Pennsylvania Rail- 
road, and Nathan McDowell, chosen by the club 
itself, made a thorough examination. They pro- 
nounced the structure perfectly safe, but suggested 
some precautionary measures as to the stopping 



3 4 '^HE JOHNSTOWN FL OD. 

of leaks, that were faithfully carried out. The 
members of the club themselves discovered that 
the sewer that carried away the surplus or over- 
flow from the lake was not large enough in times 
of storm. So five feet of solid rock were cut 
away in order to increase the mouth of the lake. 
Usually the surface of the water was 15 feet below 
the top of the dam, and never in recent years did 
it rise to more than eight feet. In 1881, when 
work was going on, a sudden rise occurred, and 
then the water threatened to do what it did on 
this occasion. The workmen hastened to the 
scene and piled debris of all sorts on the top and 
thus prevented a washout. 

For more than a year there had been fears of a 
disaster. The foundations of the dam at South 
Fork were considered shaky early in 1888, and 
many Increasing leakages were reported from 
time to time. 

"We were afraid of that lake," said a gentle- 
man who had lived in Johnstown for years ; " We 
were afraid of that lake seven years ago. No 
one could see the immense height to which that 
artificial dam had been built without fearino- the 
tremendous power of the water behind It. The 
dam must have had a sheer height of 100 feet, 
thus forcing the water that high above its natural 
bed, and making a lake at least three miles long 
and a mile wide, out of what could scarcely be 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 35 

called a pond. I doubt if there is a man or woman 
in Johnstown who at some time or other had not 
feared and spoken of the terrible disaster that has 
now come. 

" People wondered, and asked why the dam 
was not strengthened, as it certainly had become 
weak ; but nothing was done, and by and by they 
talked less and less about it, as nothing happened, 
though now and then some would shake their 
heads as if conscious the fearful day would come 
some time when their worst fears would be tran- 
scended by the horror of the actual occurrence." 

There is not a shadow of doubt but that the 
citizens of Cambria County frequently complained, 
and that at the time the dam was constructed a 
vigorous effort was made to put a stop to the work. 
It is true that the leader in this movement was not 
a citizen of Johnstown, but he was and is a large 
mine owner in Cambria County. His mine ad- 
joins the reservoir property. He was frequently 
on the spot, and his own engineer inspected the 
work. He says the embankment was principally 
of shale and clay, and that straw was used to stop 
the leaking of water while the work was going on. 
He called on the sheriff of Cambria County and 
told him it was his duty to apply to the court for 
an injunction. The sheriff promised to give the 
matter his attention, but, instead of going before 
court, went to the Cambria Company for consul- 



3 6 THE JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 

tatlon. An employee was sent up to make an in- 
spection, and as his report was favorable to the res- 
ervoir work the sheriff went no further. But the 
gentleman referred to said that he had not failed 
to make public his protest at the time and to re- 
new it frequently. This recommendation for an 
injunction and protest were spoken of by citizens 
of Altoona as a hackneyed subject. 

Confirmation has certainly been had at South 
Fork, Conemaugh, Millvale and Johnstown. The 
rumor of an expected break was prevalent at these 
places, but citizens remarked that the rumor was a 
familiar incident of the annual freshets. It was 
the old classic story of " Wolf, wolf." They gave 
up the first floors to the water and retired up- 
stairs to wait until the river should recede, as they 
had done often before, scouting the oft-told story 
of the breaking of the reservoir. 

An interesting story, involving the construction 
and history of the Conemaugh lake dam, was related 
by J. B, Montgomery, who formerly lived in West- 
ern Pennsylvania, and is now well known in the 
W^est as a railroad contractor. " The dam," said 
he, " was built about thirty-five years ago by the 
State of Pennsylvania, as a feeder for the western 
division of the Pennsylvania Canal. The plans 
and specifications for the dam were furnished by 
the Chief Enorineer of the State. I am not sure, 
but it is my impression, that Colonel William Mil- 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL OOD. 39 

nor Roberts held the office at the time. Colonel 
Roberts was one of the most famous engineers in 
the country. He died several years ago in Chili. 
The contractors for the construction of the dam 
were General J. K. Moorhead and Judge H. B. 
Packer, of Williamsport, a brother of Governor 
Packer. General Moorhead had built many dams 
before this on the rivers of Pennsylvania, and his 
work was always known to be of the very best. 
In this case, however, all that he had to do was to 
build the dam according to the specifications fur- 
nished by the State. The dam was built of stone 
and wood throughout, and was of particularly 
solid construction. There is no significance in the 
discovery of straw and dirt among the ruins of 
the dam. Both are freely used when dams are 
being built, to stop the numerous leaks. 

" The dam had three waste-gates at the bottom, 
so arranged that they could be raised when there 
was too much water in the lake, and permit the 
escape of the surplus. These gates were in big 
stone arches, through which the water passed to 
the canal when the lake was used as a feeder. 

"In 1859 the Pennsylvania Railroad Company 
purchased the canal from the State, and the dam 
and lake went into the possession of that company. 
Shortly afterward the Pennsylvania Company 
abandoned the western division of the canal, and 
the dam became useless as a feeder. For twenty- 

3 



40 THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 

five years the lake was used only as a fish-pond, 
and the dam and the ^ates were forg-otten. Five 
years ago the lake was leased to a number of 
Pittsburgh men, who stocked it with bass, trout, 
and other game fish. I have heard it said that the 
waste-gates had not been opened for a great many 
years. If this is so, no wonder the dam broke. 
Naturally the fishermen did not want to open the 
gates after the lake was stocked, for the fish would 
have run out. A sluiceway should have been 
built on the side of the dam, so that when the water 
reached a certain height the surplus could escape. 
The dam was not built with the intention that the 
water should flow over the top of it under any 
circumstances, and if allowed to escape in that 
way the water was bound to undermine it in a 
short time. With a dam the heio;"ht of this the 
pressure of a quantity of water great enough to 
overflow it must be something- tremendous. 

"If it is true that the waste-gates were never 
opened after the Pittsburgh men had leased the 
lake, the explanation of the bursting of the dam 
is to be found right there. It may be that the 
dam had not been looked after and strengthened 
of late years, and it was undoubtedly weakened 
in the period of twenty-five years during which 
the lake was not used. After the construction of 
the dam the lake was called the Western Reservoir. 
The south fork of the Conemaugh, which fed the 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLO OD. 4 1 

lake, is a little stream not over ten feet wide, but 
even when there were no unusual storms it carried 
enough water to fill the lake full within a year, 
showing how important it was that the gates 
should be opened occasionally to run off the 
surplus." 

Mr. Montgomery was one of a party of engi- 
neers who inspected the dam when it was leased 
by the Pennsylvania Company, five years ago. 
It then needed repairs, but was in a perfectly safe 
condition if the water was not allowed to flow 
over it. 



CHAPTER III. 

Friday, May 31st, 1889. The day before had 
been a solemn holiday. In every village veterans 
of the War for the Union had gathered ; in every 
cemetery flowers had been strewn upon the grave- 
mounds of the heroic dead. Now the people 
were resuming the every-day toil. The weather 
was rainy. It had been wet for some days. Stony 
Creek and Conemaugh were turbid and noisy. 
The litde South Fork, which ran into the upper 
end of the lake, was swollen into a raging tor- 
rent. The lake was ' higher than usual ; higher 
than ever. But the valley below lay in fancied 
security, and all the varied activities of life pur- 
sued their wonted round, 

Friday, May 31st, 1889. Record that awful 
date in characters of funereal hue. It was a dark 
and stormy day, and amid the darkness and the 
storm the angel of death spread his wings over 
the fated valley, unseen, unknown. Midday 
comes. Disquiedng rumors rush down the val- 
ley. There is a roar of an approaching storm — 
42 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 43 

approaching doom ! The water swiftly rises. 
A horseman thunders down the valley: "To the 
hills, for God's sake ! To the hills, for your 
lives ! " They stare at him as at a madman, and 
their hesitating feet linger in the valley of the 
shadow of death, and the shadow swiftly darkens, 
and the everlasting hills veil their faces with rain 
and mist before the scene that greets them. 

This is what happened : — 

The heavy rainfall raised the lake until its 
water began to pour over the top of the dam. 
The dam itself — wretchedly built of mud and 
boulders — saturated through and through, began 
to leak copiously here and there Each watery 
sapper and miner burrowed on, followers swiftly 
enlaro-inof the murderous tunnels. The whole 
mass became honeycombed. And still the rain 
poured down, and still the South Fork and a 
hundred minor streams sent in their swelling 
floods, until, with a roar like that of the opening 
eates of the Inferno belchingf forth the les^ions of 
the damned, the wall gave way, and with the rush 
of a famished tiger into a sheepfold, the whirlwind 
of water swept down the valley on its errand of 
destruction — 

" And like a horse unbi-oken, 
When first he feels the rein, 
The furious river struggled hard, 
And tossed his tawny mane, 



44 THE JOHNS TO WN FL OD, 

And burst the curb, and bounded, 

Rejoicing to be free, 
And, whirling down in mad career. 
Battlement and plank and pier, 

Rushed headlong to the sea ! " 

According to the statements of people who 
lived in Johnstown and other towns on the line of 
the river, ample time was given to the inhabitants 
of Johnstown by the railroad officials and by other 
gentlemen of standing and reputation. In hun- 
dreds of cases this warning was utterly disre- 
garded, and those who heeded it early in the day 
were looked upon as cowards, and many jeers 
were uttered by lips that now are cold. The 
people of Johnstown also had a special warning in 
the fact that the dam in Stony Creek, just above 
the town, broke about noon, and thousands of feet 
of lumber passed down the river. Yet they hesi- 
tated, and even when the wall of water, almost 
forty feet high, was at their doors, one man is said 
by a survivor to have told his family that the stream 
would not rise very high. 

How sudden the calamity is illustrated by an 
incident which Mr. Bender, the night chief opera- 
tor of the Western Union in Pittsburgh, relates: 
"At 3 o'clock that Friday afternoon," said he, "the 
girl operator at Johnstown was cheerfully ticking 
away that she had to abandon the office on the 
first floor, because the water was three feet deep 



THE JOHNSTO VVN FLOOD. 45 

there. She said she was telegraphing from the 
second story and the water was gaining steadily. 
She was frightened, and said many houses were 
flooded. This was evidently before the dam broke, 
for our man here said something encouraging to 
her, and she was talking back a-s only a cheerful 
girl operator can, when the receiver's skilled ear 
caught a sound on the wire made by no human 
hand, which told him that the wires had grounded, 
or that the house had been swept away in the 
flood from the lake, no one knows which now. 
At 3 o'clock the girl was there, and at 3.07 we 
might as well have asked the grave to answer us." 
The water passed over the dam about a foot 
above its top, beginning at about half-past 2. 
Whatever happened in the way of a cloud-burst 
took place in the night. There had been little 
rain up to dark. When the workmen woke in the 
morning the lake was full, and rising at the rate 
of a foot an hour. It kept on rising until 2 p. m., 
when it began breaking^ over the dam and under- 
minino- it. Men were sent three or four times 
during the day to warn people below of their dan- 
ger. When the final break came at 3 o'clock, 
there was a sound like tremendous and continued 
peals of thunder. Trees, rocks and earth shot up 
into mid -air in great columns and then started 
down the ravine. A farmer who escaped said 
that the water did not come down like a wave, but 



46 THE JOHNSTO WN FL OD. 

jumped on his house and beat it to fragments in 
an instant. He was safe on the hillside, but his 
wife and two children were killed. 

Herbert Webber, who was employed by the 
Sportsmen's Club at the lake, tells that for three 
' days previous to the final outburst, the water of 
the lake forced itself out through the interstices 
of the masonry, so that the front of the dam re- 
sembled a large watering pot. The force of the 
water was so great that one of these jets squirted 
full thirty feet horizontally from the stone wall. 
All this time, too, the feeders of the lake, particu- 
larly three of them, more nearly resembled tor- 
rents than mountain streams, and were supplying 
the dammed up body of water with quite 3,000,- 
000 gallons of water hourly. 

At 1 1 o'clock that Friday morning, Webber 
says he was attending to a camp about a mile 
back from the dam, when he noticed that the sur- 
face of the lake seemed to be lowering. He 
doubted his eyes, and made a mark on the shore, 
and then found that his suspicions were undoubt- 
edly well founded. He ran across the country to the 
dam, and there saw, he declares, the water of the 
lake wellinof out from beneath the foundation 
stones of the dam. Absolutely helpless, he was 
compelled to stand there and watch the gradual 
development of what was to be the most disastrous 
flood of this continent 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL OOD. 47 

According to his reckoning it was 2.45 when 
the stones in the centre of the dam began to sink 
because of the undermining, and within eight min- 
utes a gap of twenty feet was made in the lower 
half of the wall face, through which the water 
poured as though forced by machinery of stu- 
pendous power. By 3 o'clock the toppling 
masonry, which before had partaken somewhat 
of the form of an arch, fell in, and then the re- 
mainder of the wall opened outward like twin gates, 
and the great storage lake was foaming and 
thundering down the valley of the Conemaugh. 

Webber became so awestruck at the catastrophe 
that he declares he was unable to leave the spot 
until the lake had fallen so low that it showed 
bottom fifty feet below him. How long a time 
elapsed he says he does not know before he recov- 
ered sufficient power of observation to notice this, 
but he does not think that more than five minutes 
passed. Webber says that had the dam been re- 
paired after the spring freshet of 1888 the disaster 
would not have occurred. Had it been g-iven ordi- 

o 

nary attention in the spring of 1887 the probabili- 
ties are that thousands of lives would have been 
saved. 

Imagine, if you can, a solid piece of ground, 
thirty-five feet wide and over one hundred feet 
high, and then, again, that a space of two hundred 
feet is cut out of it, through which is rushing over 



48 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

seven hundred acres of water, and you can have 
only a faint conception of the terrible force of the 
blow that came upon the people of this vicinity like 
a clap of thunder out of a clear sky. It was irre- 
sistible in its power and carried everything before 
it. After seeing the lake and the opening through 
the dam it can be readily understood how that out- 
break came to be so destructive in its character. 

The lake had been leaking, and a couple of Ital- 
ians were at work just over the point where the 
break occurred, and in an instant, without warning, 
it gave way and they went down in the whirling 
mass of water, and were swept into eternity. 

Mr. Crouse, proprietor of the South Fork Fish- 
ing Club Hotel, says: "When the dam of Cone- 
maugh lake broke the water seemed to leap, 
scarcely touching the ground. It bounded down 
the valley, crashing and roaring, carrying every- 
thing before it. For a mile its front seemed like 
a solid wall twenty feet high." The only warning 
given to Johnstown was sent from South Fork 
village by Freight Agent Dechert. When the 
great ivalL that held the body of water began to 
crujnble at the top he sent a message begging the 
people of Johns town for God's sake to take to the 
hills. He reports no serious accidents at South 
Fork. 

Richard Davis ran to Prospect Hill when the 
water raised. As to Mr. Dechert's message, he 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 49 

says just such have been sent down at each flood 
since the lake was made. The wamiing so often 
proved useless thai little attention was paid to it 
this time. "I cannot describe the mad rush," he 
said, "At first it looked like dust. That must 
have been the spray. I could see houses going 
down before it like a child's play blocks set on 
edge in a row. As it came nearer I could see 
houses totter for a moment, then rise and the next 
moment be crushed like ^<g<g shells, against each 
other." 

Mr. John G. Parke, of Philadelphia, a civil en- 
gineer, was at the dam superintending some 
improvements in the drainage system at the lake. 
He did all he could with the help of a gang of 
laborers to avert the catastrophe and to warn 
those in danger. His story of the calamity is 
this : — 

" For several days prior to the breaking of the 
dam, storm after storm swept over the mountains 
and flooded every creek and rivulet. The waters 
from these varied sources flowed into the lake, 
which finally was not able to stand the pressure 
forced upon it. Friday morning I realized the 
danger that was threatened, and although from 
that time until three o'clock every human effort 
was made to prevent a flood, they were of no 
avail. When I at last found that the dam was 
bound to go, I started out to tell the people, and 



50 THE JOHNSTO WN FL O OD. 

by twelve o'clock everybody in the Conemaugh 
reeion did or should have known of their dang-er. 
Three hours later my gravest fears were more 
than realized. It is an erroneous idea, however, 
that the dam burst. It simply moved away. 
The water gradually ate into the embankment 
until there was nothing left but a frail bulwark of 
wood. This finally split asunder and sent the 
waters howling down the mountains." 



CHAPTER IV. 

The course of the torrent from the broken dam 

at the foot of the lake to Johnstown is almost 

eighteen miles, and with the exception of one 

point, the water passed through a narrow V-shaped 

valley. Four miles below the dam lay the town of 

South Fork, where the South Fork itself empties 

into the Conemaugh river. The town contained 

about 2000 inhabitants. About four-fifths of it 

has been swept away. Four miles further down 

on the Conemaugh river, which runs parallel with 

the main line of the Pennsylvania Railroad, was 

the town of Mineral Point. It had 800 inhabitants, 

90 per cent, of the houses being on a flat and 

close to the river. Terrible as it may seem, very 

few of them have escaped. Six miles further down 

was the town of Conemaugh, and here alone there 

was a topographical possibility — the spreading of 

the flood and the breaking of its force. It contained 

2500 inhabitants, and has been almost wholly 

devastated. Woodvale, with 2000 people, lay a 

51 



5 2 THE JOHNS TO WJSi FL OD. 

mile below Conemauo"h in the fiat, and one mile 
further down were Johnstown and its suburbs — 
Cambria City and Conemaugh borough, with a 
population of 30,000. On made ground, and 
stretched along right at the river's verge, were the 
immense iron works of the Cambria Iron and 
Steel Company, who have ^5,000,000 invested in 
their plant. Besides this there are many other 
large industrial establishments on the bank of the 
river. 

The stream of human beings that was swept 
before the angry floods was something most piti- 
ful to behold. Men, women and children were 
carried along frantically shrieking for help, but 
their cries availed them nothing. Rescue was 
impossible. Husbands were swept past their 
wives, and children were borne along, at a terri- 
ble speed, to certain death, before the eyes of 
their terrorized and frantic parents. Houses, out- 
buildings, trees and barns were carried on the 
angry flood of waters as so much chaff. Cattle 
standing in the fields were overwhelmed, and their 
carcasses strewed the tide. The railroad tracks 
converging on the town were washed out, and 
wires in all directions were prostrated. 

Down through the Packsaddle came the rushing 
waters. Clinging to improvised rafts, constructed 
in the death battle from floating boards and tim- 
bers, were agonized men, women and children, 



THE JOHNSTO WN FL OOD. 53 

their heart-rending shrieks for help striking horror 
to the breasts of the onlookers. Their cries were 
of no avail. Carried along at a railway speed on 
the breast of this rushing torrent, no human 
ingenuity could devise a means of rescue. 

It is impossible to describe briefly the sudden- 
ness with which the disaster came. A warnino- 
sound was heard at Conemaugh a few minutes 
before the rush of water came, but it was attrib- 
uted to some meteorological disturbance, and no 
trouble was borrowed because of the thine unseen. 
As the low, rumbling noise increased in volume, 
however, and came nearer, a suspicion of danger 
began to force itself even upon the bravest, which 
was increased to a certainty a few minutes later, 
when, with a rush, the mighty stream spread out 
in width, and when there was no time to do any- 
thing to save themselves. Many of the unfortu- 
nates were whirled into the middle of the stream 
before they could turn around ; men, women and 
children were struggling in the streets, and it is 
thought that many of them never reached Johns- 
town, only a mile or two below. 

At Johnstown a similar scene was enacted, only 
on a much larger scale. The population is greater 
and the sweeping whirlpool rushed into a denser 
mass of humanity. The imagination of the reader 
can better depict the spectacle than the pen of the 
writer can give it. It was a twilight of terror, and 



5 4 THE JOHNS TO WN FL O OD. 

the gathering shades of evening closed in on a 
panorama of horrors that has few parallels in the 
history of casualties. 

When the great wave from Conemaugh lake, 
behind the dam, came down the Conemaugh Val- 
ley, the first obstacle it struck was the great 
viaduct over the South Fork. This viaduct was a 
State work, built to carry the old Portage road 
across the Fork. The Pennsylvania Railroad 
parallels the Portage road for a long distance, and 
runs over the Fork. Besides sweeping the via- 
duct down, the bore, or smaller bores on its wings, 
washed out the Portag^e road for miles. One of 
the small bores went down the bed of a brook 
which comes into the Conemaugh at the village of 
South Fork, which is some distance above the via- 
duct. The big bore backed the river above the 
village. The small bore was thus checked in its 
course and flowed into the villaore. 

The obstruction below being removed, the 
backed-up water swept the village of South Fork 
away. The flood came down. It moved steadily, 
but with a velocity never yet attained by an engine 
moved by power controllable by man. It accom- 
modated itself to the character of the breaks in 
the hill. It filled every one, whether narrow or 
broad. Its thrust was sideways and downward as 
well as forward. By side thrusts it scoured every 
cave and bend in the line of the mountains, 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 57 

lessening Its direct force to exert power laterally, 
but at the same time moving its centre straight on 
Johnstown. It is well to state that the Conemaugh 
river is tortuous, like most streams of its kind. 
Wherever the mountains retreat, flats make out 
from them to the channel of the stream. It was 
on such flats that South Fork and Mineral Point 
villaofes and the borouorhs of Conemaugh, Frank- 
lin, Woodvale, East Conemaugh and Johnstown 
were built. 

After emerging from the South Fork, with the 
ruins of the great viaduct in its maw, it swept 
down a narrow valley until just above the village 
of Mineral Point There it widened, and, thrust- 
inof its riofht wingf into the hollow where the vlllao-e 
nestled, it swept away every house on the flat. 
These were soon welded into a compact mass, 
with trees and logfs and o^eneral drift stuff. This 
mass followed the bore. What the bore could 
not budge, its follower took up and carried. 

The first great feat at carrying and lifting was 
done at East Conemaugh. It tore up every build- 
ing in the yard of the Pennsylvania Railroad. It 
took locomotives and carried them down and dug 
holes fortheir burials. It has been said that the flood 
had a downward thrust. There was proof of this 
on the banks of the river, where there was a sort 
of breakwater of concreted cinders, slag, and other 
things, making a combination harder than stone„ 



5 8 THE JO HNS TO WN FL OD. 

Unable to get a grip directly on these banks, the 
flood jumped over them, threw the whole weight 
of the mass of logs and broken buildings down on 
the sand behind them, scooped this sand out, and 
then, by backward blows, knocked the concrete to 
:^pieces. In this it displayed almost the uttermost 
skill of human malice. 

After crossing- the flat of East Conemauo-h and 
scooping out of their situations sixty-five houses 
in two streets, as well as tearing passenger trains 
to pieces, drowning an unknown number of per- 
sons, and picking up others to dash against what- 
ever obstacles it encountered, it sent a force to the 
left, which cut across the flat of Franklin borough, 
ripped thirty-two houses to pieces, and cut a sec- 
ond channel for the Conemaugh river, leaving an 
island to mark the place of division of the forces 
of the flood. The strength of the eastern wing- 
can be estimated from the fact that the iron bars 
piled in heaps in the stock yard of the Cambria 
Iron Company were swept away, and that some 
of them may be found all along the river as far as 
Johnstown. 

After this came the utter wiping out of the 
borough of Woodvale, on the flat to the northeast 
of Johnstown and diagonally opposite it. Wood- 
vale had a population of nearly 3000 people. It 
requires a large number of houses to shelter so 
many. Estimating 10 to a family, which is a big 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL OOD. 59 

estimate, there were 300 houses in Woodvale. 
There were also a woolen mill, a flour mill, the 
Gautier Barb Wire Mills of the Cambria Iron 
Company, and the tannery of W. H. Rosenthal & 
Co. Only the flour mill and the middle section of 
the bridore remain. The flat is bare otherwise. 
The stables of the Woodvale Horse Railroad 
Company went out with the water; every horse 
and car in them went also. 

The change was wrought in five minutes. Rob- 
ert Miller, who lost two of his children and his 
mother-in-law, thus describes the scene : " I was 
standing near the Woodvale Bridge, between 
Maple avenue and Portage street, in Johnstown. 
The river was high, and David Lucas and I were 
speculating about the bridges, whether they would 
go down or not. Lucas said, ' I guess this bridge 
will stand ; it does not seem to be weakened.' 
Just then we saw a dark object up the river. 
Over it was a white mist. It was hieh and some- 
how dreadful, though we could not make it out. 
Dark smoke seemed to form a background 
for the mist. We did not wait for more. By 
instinct we knew the big dam had burst and its 
water was coming upon us. Lucg.s jumped on 
a car horse, rode across the bridge, and went 
yelling into Johnstown. The flood overtook him, 
and he had to abandon his horse and climb a 
high hill. 



6o THE JO HNS TO WN FL OD. 

"I went straight to my house in Woodvale, 
warning everybody as I ran. My wife and mother- 
in-law were ready to move, with my five children, 
so we went for the hillside, but we were not speedy 
enoug-h. The water had come over the flat at its 
base and cut us off. I and my wife climbed into 
a coal car with one of the children, to get out of 
the water. I put two more children into the car 
and looked around for my other children and my 
mother-in-law. My mother-in-law was a stout 
woman, weighing about two hundred and twelve 
pounds. She could not climb into a car. The 
train was too longf for her to g-o around it, so she 
tried to crawl under, leading the children. 

"The train was suddenly pushed forward by the 
flood, and she was knocked down and crushed, so 
were my children, by the same shock. My wife 
and children in the car were thrown down and 
covered with coal. I was taken off by the water, 
but I swam to the car and pulled them from under 
a lot of coal. A second blow to the train threw 
our car ao-ainst the hillside and us out of it to firm 

o 

earth. I never saw my two children and mother- 
in-law after the flood first struck the train of coal 
cars. I have often heard it said that the dam 
might break, but I never paid any attention to it 
before. It was common talk whenever there was 
a freshet or a big pack of ice." 

The principal street of Woodvale was Maple 



THE JOHNSTOWN- FLOOD. - 6 1 

avenue. The Conemaugh river now rushes 
through it from one side of the fiat to the other. 
Its pavement is beautifully clean. It Is doubtful 
that it will ever be cleared by mortal agency again. 
Breaking down the barbed steel wire mill and 
the tannery at the bridge, the flood went across the 
regular channel of the river and struck the Gau- 
tier Steel Works, made up of numerous stanch 
brick buildings and one immense structure of 
iron, filled with enormous boilers, fly wheels, and 
machinery generally. The buildings are strewn 
through Johnstown. Near their sites are some 
bricks, twisted iron beams, boilers, wheels, and 
engine bodies, bound together with logs, drift- 
wood, tree branches, and various other things, 
woven in and out of one another marvelously. 
These aegregations are of enormous size and 
weight. They were not too strong for the im- 
mense power of the destroying agent, for a 
twenty-ton locomotive, takpn from the Gautier 
Works, now lies in Main street, three-quarters of 
a mile away. It did not simply take a good grip 
upon them ; it was spreading out its line for a 
force by its left wing, and hit simultaneously upon 
Johnstown flat, its people and houses, while its 
right wing did whatever it could in the way of 
helping the destructive work. The left wing 
scoured the flat to the base of the mountain. 
With a portion of the centre it then rushed across 



62 THE JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. 

Stony creek. The remainder of the central force 
cleared several paths in diverging directions 
through the town. 

While the left and centre were tearing houses 
to pieces and drowning untold lives, the right had 
been hurrying along the base of the northern 
hills, in the channel of the Conemaugh river, 
carrying down the houses, bridges, human beings 
and other drift that had been picked up on the 
way from South Fork. 

Thus far the destruction at Johnstown had not 
been one-quarter what it is now. But the bed of 
the Conemaugh beyond Johnstown is between 
high hills that come close together. The cut is 
bridged by a viaduct. The right wing, with its 
plunder, was stopped by the bridge and the bend. 
The left and centre came tearing down Stony 
creek. There was a collision of forces. The 
men, women, children, horses, other domestic 
animals, houses, bridges, railroad cars, logs and 
tree branches were jammed together in a solid 
mass, which only dynamite can break up. The 
outlet of Stony creek was almost completely 
closed and the channel of the Conemaugh was 
also choked. The water in both surged back. In 
Stony creek it went along the curve of the base 
of the hill in front of which Kernville is built. 
Dividing its strength, one part of the flood went 
up Stony creek a short distance and moved around 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ^T^ 

again into Johnstown. It swept before it many 
more houses than before and carried them around 
in a circle, until they met and crashed against 
other houses, torn from the point of Johnstown 
flat by a similar wave moving in a circle from the 
Conemauofh. 

The two waves and their burdens went around 
and around in slowly-diminishing circles, until 
most of the houses had been ground to pieces. 
There are living men, women and children who 
circled in these frio-htful vortices for an hour. 

o 

Lawyer Rose, his wife, his two brothers and his 
two sisters are among those. They were drawn 
out of their house by the suction of the retreating 
water, and thus were started on a frightful jour- 
ney. Three times they went from the Kernville 
side of the creek to the centre of the Johnstown 
flat and past their own dwelling. They were 
dropped at last on the Kernville shore. Mr. 
Rose had his collar bone broken, but the others 
were hurt only by fright, wetting and some 
bruises. 

Some of the back water went up the creek and 
did damage at Grubtown and Hornerstown. 
More of it, following- the line of the mountain, 
rushed in at the back of Kernville. It cut a 
clear path for Itself from the lower end of the 
village to the upper end, diagonally opposite, 
passing through the centre. It sent little streams 



64 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ■ ^ 

to topple homes over In side places and went on ' 
a round trip Into the higher part of Johnstown, 
between the creek and the hill. It carried houses 
from Kernville to the Johnstown bank of the creek, 
and left them there. Then It coursed down the 
bank, overturning trains of the Baltimore and 
Ohio railroad, and also houses, and keeping on 
until It had made the journey several times. 

How so marvelous a force was exerted Is Illus- 
trated In the following statement from Jacob Reese, 
of Pittsburg, the Inventor of the basic process for 
manufacturing steel. Mr. Reese says : — 

" When the South Fork dam gave way, 
16,000,000 tons of water rushed down the moun- 
tain side, carrying thousands of tons of rocks, 
loo^s and trees with It. When the flood reached 
the Conemaugh Valley It struck the Pennsylvania 
Railroad at a point where they make up the trains 
for ascending the Allegheny Mountains. Several 
trains with their locomotives and loaded cars were 
swept down the valley before the flood wave, 
which is said to have been fifty feet high. Cars 
loaded with iron, cattle, and freight of all kinds, 
with those mighty locomotives, weighing from 
seventy to one hundred tons each, were pushed 
ahead of the flood, trucks and engines rolling over 
and over like mere toys. 

" Sixteen million tons of water gathering fences, 
barns, houses, mills and shops Into Its maw. Down 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 65 

the valley for three miles or more rushed this 
mighty avalanche of death, sweeping everything 
before it, and leaving nothing but death and de- 
struction behind it. When it struck the railroad 
bridge at Johnstown, and not being able to force 
its way through that stone structure, the debris 
was gorged and the water dammed up fifty feet in 
ten minutes. 

"This avalanche was composed of more than 
roo,ooo tons of rocks, locomotives, freight cars, 
car trucks, iron, logs, trees and other material 
pushed forward by 16,000,000 tons of water Idling 
500 feet, and it was this that, sliding over the 
ground, mowed down the houses, mills and 
factories as a mowing machine does a field of 
grain. It swept down with a roaring, crushing- 
sound, at the rate of a mile a minute, and hurled 
10,000 people into the jaws of death in less than 
half an hour. And so the people called it the 
avalanche of death." 



CHAPTER V. 

"Johnstown is annihilated," telegraphed Super- 
intendent Pitcairn to Pittsburg on Friday night. 
"He came," says one who visited the place on 
Sunday, "very close to the facts of the case. 
Nothing like it was ever seen in this country. 
Where long rows of dwelling-houses and business 
blocks stood forty-eight hours ago, ruin and deso- 
lation now reign supreme. Probably 1500 houses 
have been swept from the face of the earth as 
completely as if they had never been erected. 
Main street, from end to end, is piled fifteen 
and twenty feet high with debris, and in some 
instances it is as hieh as the roofs of the houses. 
This Qfreat mass of wreckage fills the street from 
curb to curb, and frequently has crushed the build- 
ings in and filled the space with reminders of 
the terrible calamity. There is not a man in the 
place who can give any reliable estimate of the 
number of houses that have been swept away. 
City Solicitor Kuehn, who should be very good 
authority in this matter, places the number at 

66 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL OOD. 6 J 

1 500. From the woolen mill above the island to 
the bridge, a distance of probably two miles, a 
strip of territory nearly a half mile in width has 
been swept clean, not a stick of timber or one 
brick on top of another being left to tell the story. 
It is the most complete wreck that imagination 
could portray. 

"All day long men, women, and children were 
plodding about. the desolate waste looking in vain 
to locate the boundaries of their former homes. 
Nothing but a wide expanse of mud, ornamented 
here and there with heaps of driftwood, remained, 
however, for their contemplation. It is perfectly 
safe to say that every house in the city that was 
not located well up on the hillside was either 
swept completely away or wrecked so badly that 
rebuilding will be absolutely necessary. These 
losses, however, are nothing compared to the 
frightful sacrifice of precious human lives to be 
seen on every hand. 

" During all this solemn Sunday Johnstown has 
been drenched with the tears of stricken mortals, 
and the air is filled- with sobs and sighs that come 
from breaking hearts. There are scenes enacted 
here every hour and every minute that affect all 
beholders profoundly. When homes are thus torn 
asunder in an instant, and the loved ones hurled 
from the arms of loving and devoted mothers, 



68 THE JOHNSTO WN FL O OD. 

there is an element of sadness in the tragedy that 
overwhelms every heart. 

"A slide, a series of frightful tosses from side 
to side, a run, and you have crossed the narrow 
rope bridge which spanned the chasm dug by the 
waters between the stone bridge and Johnstown. 
Crossing the bridge is an exciting task, yet many 
women accomplished it rather than remain in 
Johnstown. The bridge pitched like a ship in a 
storm. Within two inches of your feet rushed the 
muddy waters of the Conemaugh. There were 
no ropes to easily guide, and creeping was more 
convenient than walking. One had to cross the 
Conemaugh at a second point in order to reach 
Johnstown proper. This was accomplished by a 
skiff ferry. The ferryman clung to a rope and 
pulled the boat over. 

"After landing one walks across a desolate sea 
of mud, in which there are interred many human 
bodies. It was once the handsome portion of the 
town. The cellars are filled up with mud, so that 
a person who has never seen the city can hardly 
imagine that houses ever stood where they did. 
Four streets solidly built up with houses have been 
swept away. Nothing but a small, two-story frame 
house remains. It was near the edge of the wave 
and thus escaped, although one side was torn off. 
The walk up to wrecks of houses was interrupted 
in many places by small branch streams. Occa- 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL OOD. 69 

sionally across the flats could be seen the remahis 
of a victim. The stench arising from the mud is 
sickening-. Alone' the route were strewn tin uten- 
sils, pieces of machinery, iron pipes, and wares of 
every conceivable kind. In the midst of the wreck 
a clothing store dummy, with a hand in the posi- 
tion of beckoning to a person, stands erect and 
uninjured. 

" It is impossible to describe the appearance of 
Main street. Whole houses have been swept 
down this one street and become lodged. The 
wreck is piled as high as the second-story windows. 
The reporter could step from the wreck into the 
auditorium of the opera house. The ruins consist 
of parts of houses, trees, saw logs and reels from 
the wire factory. Many houses have their side 
walls and roofs torn up, and one can walk directly 
into what had been second-story bed-rooms, or go 
in by way of the top. Further up town a raft of 
logs lodged in the street, and did great damage. 
At the beeinnine of the wreckasfe, which is at the 
opening of the valley of the Conemaugh, one can 
look up the valley for miles and not see a house. 
Nothing stands but an old woolen mill. 

" Charles Luther is the name of the boy who 
stood on an adjacent elevation and saw the whole 
flood. He said he heard a grinding noise far up 
the valley, and looking up he could see a dark 
line moving slowly toward him. He saw that it 



7 O THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 

was houses. On they came, Hke the hand of a 
giant clearing off his table. High in the air would 
be tossed a log or beam, which fell back with a 
crash. Down the valley it moved and across the 
little mountain city. For ten minutes nothing but 
moving houses were seen, and then the waters 
came with a roar and a rush. This lasted for tw^o 
hours, and then it began to flow more steadily." 

Seen from the high hill across the river from 
Johnstown, the Conemaugh Valley gives an easy 
explanation of the terrible destruction which it has 
suffered. This valley, stretching back almost in a 
straight line for miles, suddenly narrows near 
Johnstown. The wall of water which came tearing 
down toward the town, picking up all the houses 
and mills in the villages along its way, suddenly 
rose in height as it came to the narrow pass. It 
swept over the nearest part of the town and met 
the waters of Stony creek, swollen by rains, rush- 
ing along with the speed of a torrent. The two 
forces comino- together, each turned aside and 
started away again in a half-circle, seeking an out- 
let in the lower Conemaugh Valley. The massive 
stone bridge of the Pennsylvania Railroad Com- 
pany, at the lower base of the triangle, was almost 
instantly choked up with the great mass of wreck- 
age dashed against it, and became a dam that 
could not be swept away, and proved to be the 
ruin of the town and the villages above. The 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL OOD. 7 1 

waters checked here, formed a vast whirlpool, 
which destroyed everything within its circle. It 
backed up on the other side of the triangle, and 
devastat ".d the village of Kernville, across the 
river from Johnstown. 

The force of the current was truly appalling. 
The best evidence of its force is exhibited in the 
mass of debris south of the Pennsylvania bridge. 
Persons on the hillsides declare that houses, solid 
from their foundation stones, were rushed on to 
destruction at the rate of thirty miles an hour. 
On one house forty persons were counted ; their 
cries for help were heard far above the roaring 
waters. At the railroad bridge the house parted 
in the middle, and the cries of the unfortunate 
people were smothered in the engulfing waters. 

At the Cambria Iron Works a huge hickory 
struck the south brick wall of the rollingf mill at 
an anofle, went through it and the west wall, where 
it remains. A still more extraordinary incident is 
seen at the foot-bridge of the Pennsylvania station, 
on the freight track built for the Cambria Iron 
Works. The sunken track and bridg^e are built 
in a curve. ■ In clearing out the track the Cambria 
workmen discovered two huge bridge trusses 
intact, the larger one 30 feet long and 10 feet 
high. It lay close to the top of the bridge and 
had been driven into the cut at least fifty feet. 

It was with an impulse to the right side of the 



7 2 THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 

mountain that the great mass of water came down 
the Conemaugh river. It was a mass of water 
with a front forty feet high, and an eighth of a 
mile wide. Its velocity was so great that its first 
sweep did little damage on either side. It had no 
time to spread. Where it burst from the gap it 
swept south until it struck the bridge, and, although 
it was ten feet or more deep over the top of the 
bridge, the obstruction of the mass of masonry 
was so great that the head of the rush of water 
was turned back along the Pennsylvania Railroad 
bluff on the left, and, sweeping up to where it met 
the first stream again, licked up the portion of the 
town on the left side of the triangular plain. A 
great eddy was thus formed. Through the Stony 
Creek Gap to the right there was a rush of surplus 
water. In two minutes after the current first burst 
through, forty feet deep, with a solid mass of water 
whirling around with a current of tremendous ve- 
locity, it was a whirlpool vastly greater than that 
of ten Niagaras. The only outlet was under and 
over the railroad bridge, and the continuing: rush 
of the "waters into the valley from the gap was 
greater for some time than the means of escape 
at the bridge. 

" Standing now at the bridge," says a visitor on 
Monday, " where this vast whirlpool struggled for 
exit, the air is heavy with smoke and foul with 
nameless odors from a mass of wreckage. The 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL OOD. 75 

area of the triangular space where the awful whirl- 
pool revolved is said to be about four square 
rniles. The area of the space covered by this 
smoking mass is sixty acres. The surface of this 
mass is now fifteen feet below the top of the 
bridge and about thirty below the point on the 
bluff where the surface of the whirlpool lashed 
the banks. One ragged mass some distance 
above the bridge rises several feet above the 
general level, but with that exception the surface 
of the debris is level. It has burned off until it 
reached the water, and is smouldering on as the 
water gradually lowers. On the right bank, at 
about where was the highest water level, a detach- 
ment of the Pittsburg Fire Department is throw- 
ing two fitful streams of water down into the 
smoke, with the idea of gradually extinguishing 
the fire. In the immensity of the disaster with 
which they combat their feeble efforts seem like 
those of boys with squirt guns dampening a bon- 
fire. About the sixty acres of burning debris, and 
to the left of it from where it begins to narrow 
toward Stony Creek Gap, there is a large area of 
level mud, with muddy streams wandering about 
in it. This tract of mud comprises all of the tri- 
angle except a thin fringe of buildings along the 
bluff on the Pennsylvania Railroad. A consider- 
able number of houses stand on the high ground 
on the lower face of the central mountain and off 
5 



7 6 THE JOHNSTO WN FL OD. 

to the right into Stony Creek Gap. The fringe 
along the Pennsylvania Railroad is mostly of 
stores and other large brick buildings that are 
completely wrecked, though not swept away. The 
houses on the higher ground are unharmed ; but 
down toward the edge they fade away by degrees 
of completeness in their wreckage into the yellow 
level of the huge tract over which the mighty whirl- 
pool swept. Off out of sight, in Stony Creek Gap, 
are fringes of houses on either side of the muddy 
flat. 

" This flat is a peculiar thing. It is level and 
uninteresting as a piece of waste ground. Too 
poor to grow grass, there is nothing to indicate 
that it had ever been anything else than what it is. 
It is as clean of debris and wreckage as though 
there had never been a building on it. In reality 
it was the central and busiest part of Johnstown. 
Buildings, both dwellings and stores, covered it 
thickly. Its streets were paved, and its sidewalks 
of substantial stone. It had street-car lines, gas 
and electric lights, and all the other improvements 
of a substantial city of 15,000 or 20,000 inhabitants. 
Iron bridges spanned the streams, and the build- 
ings were of substantial character. Not a brick 
remains, not a stone nor a stick of timber in all 
this territory. There are not even hummocks and 
mounds to show where wreckage might be covered 
with a layer of mud. They are not there, they are 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLO OD. 7 7 

gone — every building, every street, every sidewalk 
and pavement, the street railways, and everything 
else that covered the surface of the earth has van- 
ished as utterly as though it had never been there. 
The ground was swept as clean as though some 
mighty scraper had been dragged over it again 
and again. Not even the lines of the streets can 
be remotely traced. 

" * I have visited Johnstown a dozen times a year 
for a long time,' said a business man to-day, ' and 
I know it thoroughly, but I haven't the least idea 
now of what part of it this is, I can't even tell the 
direction the streets used to run.' 

"His bewilderment is hardly greater than^that 
of the citizens themselves. They wander about in 
the mud for hours trying to find the spot where 
the house of some friend or relative used to stand. 
It takes a whole family to locate the site of their 
friend's house with any reasonable certainty. 

"Wandering over this muddy plain one can 
realize somethingf of what must have been the 
gigantic force of that vast whirlpool. It pressed 
upon the town like some huge millstone, weighing 
tens of thousands of tons and revolving with awful 
velocity, pounding to powder everything beneath. 
But the conception of the power of that horrible 
eddy of the flood must remain feeble until that 
sixty acres of burning debris is inspected. It 
seems from a little distance like any other mass of 



yS THE JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. 

wreckage, though vastly longer than any ever be- 
fore seen in this country. It must have been many 
times more tremendous when it was heaped up 
twenty feet higher over its whole area and before 
the fire leveled it off. But neither then nor now 
can the full terror of the flood that piled it there 
be adequately realized until a trip across parts 
where the fire has been extinguished shows the 
manner in which the stuff composing it is packed 
together. It is not a heap of broken timbers lying 
loosely thrown together in all directions. It is a 
solid mass. The boards and timbers which made 
up the frame buildings are laid together as closely 
as sticks of wood in a pile — more closely, for they 
are welded into one another until each stick is as 
solidly fixed in place as though all were one. A 
curious thing is that wherever there are a few 
boards together they are edge up, and never 
standing on end or flat. The terrible force of the 
whirlpool that ground four square miles of build- 
ings into this sixty acres of wreckage left no 
opportunity for gaps or holes between pieces in 
the river. Everything was packed together as 
solidly as though by sledge-hammer blows. 

" But the boards and timber of four square 
miles of buildings are not all that is in that sixty- 
acre mass. An immense amount of debris from 
further up the valley lies there. Twenty-seven 
locomotives, several Pullman cars and probably a 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL OOD. 79 

hundred other cars, or all that Is left of them, are 
in that mass. Fragments of iron bridges can be 
seen sticking" out occasionally above the wreckage. 
They are about the only things the fire has not 
leveled, except the curious hillock spoken of, which 
is an eighth of a mile back from the bridge, where 
the flames apparently raged less fiercely. Scattered 
over the area, also, are many blackened logs that 
were too big to be entirely burned, and that stick 
up now like spar buoys in a sea of ruin. Little 
jets of flame, almost unseen by daylight, but ap- 
pearing as evening falls, are scattered thickly over 
the surface of the wreckage. 

'' Of the rest of Johnstown, and the collection 
of towns within sight of the bridge, not much is 
to be said. They are, to a greater or less extent, 
gone, as Johnstown is gone. Far up the gap 
throup-h which came the flood a larpfe brick build- 
ingr remains standing but ruined. It is all that is 
left of one of the biggest wire mills and steel 
works in the country. Turning around below the 
bridge are the works of the Cambria Iron Com- 
pany. The buildings are still standing, but they 
are pretty well ruined, and the machinery with 
which they were filled is either totally destroyed 
or damaged almost beyond repair. High up on 
the hill at the left and scattered up on other hills 
in sight are many dwellings, neat, well kept, and 
attractive places apparently, and looking as bright 



So THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

and fresh now as before the awful torrent wiped 
out of existence everything ia the valley below. 

" This is Johnstown and its immediate vicinity 
4s nearly as words can paint it. It is a single 
feature, one section out of fifteen miles of horror 
ihat stretches through this once lovely valley of 
the Allegheny. What is true of Johnstown is true 
of every town for miles up and down. The 
desolation of one town may differ from the deso- 
lation in others as one death may differ from 
another ; but it is desolation and death every- 
where — desolation so complete, so relentless, so 
dreadful that it is absolutely beyond the power of 
language fairly to tell the tale." 



CHAPTER VI. 

R. WILLIAM HENRY SMITH, General 
Manager of the Associated Press, was a 
passenger on a railroad train which reached the 
Conemaugh Valley on the very day of the disas- 
ter. He writes as follows of what he saw : 

"The fast line trains that leave Chicago at 
quarter past three and Cincinnati at seven p. m. con- 
stitute the day-express eastward from Pittsburg; 
which runs in two sections. This train left Pitts- 
burg on time Friday morning, but was stopped for 
an hour at Johnstown by reports of a wash-out 
ahead. It had been raining- hard for over sixteen 
hours, and the sides of the mountains were covered 
with water descending into the valleys. The 
Conemaugh River, whose bank is followed by the 
Pennsylvania Railroad for many miles, looked an 
angry flood nearly bankfull. Passengers were 
interested in seeing hundreds of saw-loQ^s and an 
enormous amount of driftwood shoot rapidly by, 
and the train pursued its way eastward. At 

8i 



§2 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

Johnstown there was a long wait, as before stated. 
The lower stories of many houses were submerged 
by the slack-water, and the inhabitants were look- 
ing out of the second-story windows. Horses 
were standing up to their knees in water in the 
streets ; a side-track of the railroad had been 
washed out ; loaded cars were on the bridge to 
keep it steady, and the huge poles of the Western 
Union Telegraph Company, carrying fifteen wires, 
swayed badly, and several soon went down. The 
two sections ran to Conemaugh, about two miles 
eastward of Johnstown, and lay there about three 
hours, when they were moved on to the highest 
ground and placed side by side. The mail train 
was placed in the rear of the first section, and a 
freight train was run onto a side track on the 
bank of the Conemaugh. The report was that a 
bridge had been washed out, carrying away one 
track and that the other track was unsafe. There 
was a rumor also that the reservoir at South Fork 
might break. This made most of the passengers 
uneasy, and they kept a pretty good look-out for 
information. The porters of the Pullman cars 
remained at their posts, and comforted the pas- 
sengers with the assurance that the Pennsylvania 
Railroad Company always took care of its patrons. 
A few ofentlemen and some ladles and children 
quietly seated themselves, apparently contented. 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. g^ 

One gentleman, who was ill, had his berth made 
up and retired, although advised not to do so. 

" Soon the cry came that the water in the reser- 
voir had broken down the barrier and was sweep- 
ing down the valley. Instantly there was a panic 
and a rush for the mountain side. Children were 
carried and women assisted by a few who kept 
cool heads. It was a race for life. There was 
seen the black head of the flood, now the monster 
Destruction, whose crest was hig-h raised in the 
air, and with this in view even the weak, found 
wings for their feet. No words can adequately 
describe the terror that filled every breast, or the 
awful power manifested by the flood. The round- 
house had stalls for twenty-three locomotives. 
There were eighteen or twenty of these standing 
there at this time. There was an ominous crash, 
and the round-house and locomotives dis- 
appeared. Everything in the main track of the 
flood was first lifted in air and then swallowed 
up by the waters. A hundred houses were swept 
away in a few minutes. These included the 
hotel, stores, and saloons on the front street and 
residences adjacent. The locomotive of one of 
the trains was struck by a house and demolished. 
The side of another house stopped in front of 
another locomotive and served as a shield. The 
rear car of the mail train swuncj around in the 



g^ THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

rear of the second section of the express and 
turned over on its side. Three men were ob- 
served standing upon it as it floated. The couphng 
broke, and the car moved out upon the bosom 
of the waters. As it would roll the men would 
shift their position. The situation was desperate, 
and they were given up for lost. Two or three 
hardy men seized ropes and ran along the moun- 
tain side to give them aid. Later it was reported 
that the men escaped over some driftwood as 
their car was carried near a bank. It is believed 
there were several women and children inside the 
car. Of course they were drowned. As the 
fugitives on the mountain side witnessed the awful 
devastation they were moved as never before in 
their lives. They were powerless to help those 
seized upon by the waters ; the despair of those 
who had lost everything in life and the wailing of 
those whose relatives or friends were missing 
filled their breasts with unutterable sorrow. 

" The rain continued to fall steadily, but shelter 
was not thought of. Few passengers saved any- 
thing from the train, so sudden was the cry 'Run 
for your lives, the reservoir has broken !' 

" Many were without hats, and as their baggage 
was left on the trains, they were without the 
means of relieving their unhappy condition. The 
occupants of the houses still standing on the high 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. gc 

ground threw them open to those who had lost 
all, and to the passengers of the train. 

" During the height of the flood, the spectators 
were startled by the sound of two locomotive 
whistles from the very midst of the waters. Two 
engineers, with characteristic courage, had re- 
mained at their posts, and while there was destruc- 
tion on every hand, and apparently no escape for 
them, they sounded their whistles. This they re- 
peated at intervals, the last time with triumphant 
vigor, as the waters were receding from the sides 
of their locomotives. By half-past five the force 
of the reservoir water had been spent on the 
villaofe of Conemaueh, and the Pullman cars and 
locomotive of the second section remained un- 
moved. This was because, being on the highest 
and hardest ground, the destructive current of 
the reservoir flood had passed between that and 
the mountain, while the current of the river did 
not eat it away. But the other trains had been 
destroyed. A solitary locomotive was seen em- 
bedded in the mud where the round-house had 
stood. 

" As the greatest danger had passed, the people 
of Conemaugh gave their thoughts to their neigh- 
bors of the city of Johnstown. Here was centred 
the great steel and iron industries, the pride of 
Western Pennsylvania, the Cambria Iron Works 
being known everywhere. Here were churches, 



35 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

daily newspapers, banks, dry-goods houses, ware- 
houses, and the comfortable and well-built homes 
of twelve thousand people. In the contemplation 
of the Irresistible force of that awful flood, gath- 
ering additional momentum as It swept on toward 
the Gulf, It became clear that the city must be de- 
stroyed, and that unless the Inhabitants had tele- 
graphic notice of the breaking of the reservoir 
they must perish. A cry of horror went up from 
the hundreds on the mountain-side, and a few In- 
stinctively turned their steps toward Johnstown, 
The city was destroyed. All the mills, furnaces, 
manufactories, the many and varied Industries, 
the banks, the residences, all, all were swallowed 
up before the shadows of night had settled down 
upon the earth. Those who came back by day- 
break said that from five thousand to eight 
thousand had been drowned. Our hope Is that 
this is an exaggeration, and when the roll Is called 
most will respond. In the light of this calamity, 
the destruction at Conemaugh sinks Into Insig- 
nificance." 

Mr. George Johnston, a lumber merchant of 
Pittsburg, was another witness. " I had gone to 
Johnstown," he says, " to place a couple of orders. 
I had scarcely reached the town, about three 
o'clock In the afternoon, when I saw a bulletin 
posted up In front of the telegraph office, around 
which quite a crowd of men had congregated. I 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 8/ 

pushed my way up, and read that the waters were 
so hig-h in the Conemauo^h that it was feared 
the three-mile dam, as it was called, would give 
way. I know enough about Johnstown to feel 
that my life was not worth a snap once that dam 
gave way. Although the Johnstown people did 
not seem to pay much attention to the warning, I 
was nervous and apprehensive. I had several 
parties to see, but concluded to let all but one go 
until some later day. So I hurried through with 
my most urgent transactions and started for the 
depot. The Conemaugh had then gotten so high 
that the residents of the low-lying districts had 
moved into upper stories. I noticed a number of 
wagons filled with furniture hurrying through 
the streets. A few families, either apprehensive of 
the impending calamity or driven from their houses 
by the rising waters, had started for the surround- 
ing hills. Johnstown, you know, lies in a narrow 
valley, and lies principally on the V-shaped point 
between the converging river and Stony Creek. 
"I was just walking up the steps to the depot 
when I heard a fearful roar up the valley. It 
sounded at first like a heavy train of cars, but soon 
became too loud and terrible for that. I boarded 
a train, and as I sat at the car window a sight 
broke before my view that I will remember to my 
dying day. Away up the Conemaugh came a 
yellow wall, whose crest was white and frothy. I 



88 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

rushed for the platform of the car, not knowing 
what I did, and just then the train began to move. 
Terrified as I was, I remember feehng that I was 
in the safest place and I sank back in a seat. 
When I looked out again what had been the busy 
mill yards of the Cambria Iron Company was a 
yellow, turbulent sea, on whose churned currents 
houses and barns were riding like ships in a brook. 
The water rushing in upon the molten metal in 
the mills had caused deafening explosions, which, 
coupled with the roar and grinding of the flood, 
made a terrifying din. Turning to the other side 
and looking on down the valley, I saw the muddy 
water rushine through the main streets of the town. 
I could see men and horses floundering about 
almost within call. House-tops were being filled 
with white-faced people who clung to each other 
and looked terror-stricken upon the rising flood. 

" It had all come so quickly that none of them 
seemed to realize what had happened. The con- 
ductor of my train had been pulling frantically at 
the bell-rope, and the train went spinning across 
the bridge. I sat in my seat transfixed with 
horror. Houses were spinning through beneath 
the bridee, and I did not know at what moment 
the structure would melt away under the train. 
The conductor kept tugging at the bell- rope and 
the train shot ahead again. We seemed to fairly 
leap over the yellow torrents, and I wondered for 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. gg 

an Instant whether we had not left the rails and 
were flying through the air. My heart gave a 
bound of relief when we dashed into the forest 
on the hillside opposite the doomed town. As 
the train sped along at a rate of speed that 
made me think the engineer had gone mad, I took 
one look back upon the valley. What a sight It 
was! The populous valley for miles either way 
was a seething, roaring cauldron, through whose 
boiling surface roofs of houses and the stand- 
pipes of mills protruded. The water was fairly 
piling up in a well farther up, and I saw the worst 
had not yet come. Then I turned my eyes away 
from the awful siorht and tried not to even think 
until PIttsburof was reached. 

"I cannot see how it Is possible for less than 
five thousand lives to have been sacrificed in 
Johnstown alone. At least two-thirds of the town 
was swept away. The water came so quickly that 
escape from the low districts was impossible. Peo- 
ple retreated to the upper floors of their residences 
and stores until the water had gotten too deep to 
allow their escape. When the big flood came the 
houses were picked up like pasteboard boxes or 
collapsed like egg-shells. The advance of the 
flood was black with houses, logs, and other debris, 
so that It struck Johnstown with the solid force of 
a battering-ram. None but eye-witnesses of the 
flood can comprehend its size and awfulness as It 



QO THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

came tumbling, roaring down upon the unprotected 
town." 

The appearance of the flood at Sang Hollow, 
some miles below Johnstown, Is thus pictured by 
C. W. Linthicum, of Baltimore : 

" My train left Pittsburg on Friday morning 
for Johnstown. The train was due at Sang 
Hollow at two minutes after four, but was 
five minutes late. At Sang Hollow, just 
as we were about to pull out, we heard 
that the flood was coming. Looking ahead, 
up the valley, we saw an immense wall of 
water thirty feet high, raging, roaring, rush- 
ing toward us. ' The engineer reversed his engine 
and rushed back to the hills at full speed, and we 
barely escaped the waters. We ran back three 
hundred yards, and the flood swept by, tearing up 
track, telegraph poles, trees, and houses. Super- 
intendent Pitcairn was on the train. We all got 
out and tried to save the floating people. Taking 
the bell cord we formed a line and threw the 
rope out, thus saving seven persons. We could 
have saved more, but many were afraid to let go of 
the debris. It was an awful sight. The immense 
volume of water was roaring along, whirling over 
huge rocks^ dashing against the banks and leap- 
ing high Into the air, and this seething flood was 
strewn with timber, trunks of trees, parts of 
houses, and hundreds of human beings, cattle, and 




\? 




THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. g^ 

almost every living animal. The fearful peril of 
the living was not more awful than the horrors of 
hundreds of distorted, bleeding corpses whirling 
along the avalanche of death. We counted one 
hundred and seven people floating by and dead 
without number. A section of roof came by on 
which were sittinof a woman and q-'wI, A man 
named C. W. Heppenstall, of Pittsburg, wade J 
and swam to the roof. He broucrht the o-irl in 
first and then the woman. They told us they 
were not relatives. The woman had lost her 
husband and four children, and the girl her father 
and mother, and entire family. A little boy came 
by with his mother. Both were as calm as could 
be, and the boy was apparently trying to comfort 
the mother. They passed unheeding our 
proffered help, a'nd striking the bridge below, 
went down into the vortex like lead. 

" One beautiful girl came by with her hands 
raised in prayer, and, although we shouted to her 
and ran along the bank, she paid no attention. 
We could have saved her if she had caught the 
rope. An old man and his wife whom we saved 
said that eleven persons started from Cambria 
City on the roof with him, but that the others had 
dropped off. 

" At about eight p. m. we started for New Flor- 
ence. All along the river we saw corpses without 
number caught in the branches of trees and wedged 



g^ THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

in corners in the banks. A large sycamore tree 
in the river between Sang Hollow and New 
Florence seemed to draw into it nearly all who 
floated down, and they went under the surface at 
its roots like lead. When the waters subsided 
two hundred and nine bodies were found at the root 
of this tree. All nio-ht the livino- and the dead 
floated by New Florence. At Pittsburg seventy- 
eight bodies were found on Saturday, and as many 
more were seen floating by. Hundreds of people 
from ill-fated Johnstown are wandering homeless 
and starving on the mountain-side. . Very few 
saved anything, and I saw numbers going down 
the stream naked. The sufferinof within the next 
few days will be fearful unless prompt relief is ex- 
tended." 

H. M. Bennett and S. W. Keltz, engineer and 
conductor of engine No. 1,165, ^" extra freight, 
which happened to be lying at South Fork when 
the dam broke, tell a graphic story of their won- 
derful flight and escape on the locomotive before 
the advancing flood. At the time mentioned 
Bennett and Keltz were in the signal tower at 
that point awaiting orders. The fireman and flag- 
man were on the engine, and two brakemen were 
asleep in the caboose. Suddenly the men in the 
tower heard a loud booming roar in the valley 
above them. They looked in the direction of the 
sound, and were almost transfixed with horror to 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 95 

see two miles above them a huge black wall of 
water, at least one hundred and fifty feet in height, 
rushing down the valley upon them. 

One look the fear-stricken men gave the awful 
sight, and then they made a rush for the locomo- 
tive, at the same time giving the alarm to the 
sleeping brakemen in the caboose with loud cries, 
but with no avail. It was impossible to aid them 
further, however, so they cut the engine loose 
from the train, and the engineer, with one wild 
wrench, threw the lever wide open, and they were 
away on a mad race for life. For a moment it 
seemed that they would not receive momentum 
enough to keep ahead of the flood, and they cast 
one despairing glance back. Then they could 
see the awful deluge approachiiig in its might. 
On it came, rolling^ and roariuii like some Titanic 
monster, tossing and tearing houses, sheds, and 
trees in its awful speed as if they were mere toys. 
As they looked they saw the two brakemen rush 
out of the cab, but they had not time to gather 
the slightest Idea of the cause of their doom 
before they, the car, and signal tower were tossed 
high in the air, to disappear forever in engulfing 
water. 

Then with a shudder, as if at last it compre- 
hended its peril, the engine leaped forward like a 
thing of life, and speeded down the valley. But 
fast as it went, the flood gained upon them. Hope, 



9 6 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

however, was in the ascendant, for if they could 
but est across the brido-e below the track would 
lean toward the hillside in such a manner that they 
would be comparatively safe. In a few breathless 
moments the shrieking locomotive whizzed around 
the curve and they were in sight of the bridge. 
Horror upon horrors ! Ahead of them was a 
freight train, with the rear end almost on the 
bridge, and to get across was simply Impossible ! 
Engineer Bennett then reversed the lever and 
succeeded in checking the engine as they glided 
across the bridge, and then they jumped and ran 
for their lives up the hillside, as the bridge and 
tender of the locomotive they had been on were 
swept away like a bundle of matches in the tor- 
rent. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THERE have been many famous rides in his- 
tory. Longfellow has celebrated that of 
Paul Revere. Read has sung of Sheridan's. John 
Boyle O'Reilly has commemorated in graceful 
verse the splendid achievement of Collins Graves, 
who, when the Williamsburg dam in Massachu- 
setts broke, dashed down the valley on horseback 
in the van of the flood, warning the people and 
saving countless lives: 

" He draws no rein, but he shakes the street 
With a shout and a ring of the galloping feet, 
And this the cry that he flings to the wind: 
To the hills for your lives ! The flood is behind !' 

*' In front of the roaring flood is heard 

The galloping horse and the warning word. 
Thank God ! The brave man's life is spared ! 
From Williamsburg town he nobly dared 
To race with the flood and take the road 
In front of the terrible swath it mowed. 
For miles it thundered and crashed behind, 
But he looked ahead with a steadfast mind : 
' They must be warned,' was all he said, 
As away on his terrible ride he sped." 

97 



^jj THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

There were two such heroes In the Conemaueh 
Valley. Let their deeds be told and their names 
held in everlasting honor. One was John G. 
Parke, a young civil engineer of Philadelphia, a 
nephew of the General John G. Parke who com- 
manded a corps of the Union Army, He was the 
first fo discover the impending break in the South 
Fork dam,and jumpinginto the saddle he started at 
breakneck speed down the valley shouting : " The 
dam; the dam is breaking; run for your lives!" 
Hundreds of people were saved by this timely 
warning. Reaching South Fork Station, young 
Parke telegraphed tidings of the coming inunda- 
tion to Johnstown, ten miles below, fully an hour 
before the flood came in "a solid wall of water thirty 
feet hig-h" to drown the mountain-bound town. 

Some heeded the note of alarm at Johnstown ; 
others had heard it before, doubted, and waited 
until death overtook them. Youngr Parke climbed 
up into the mountains when the water was almost 
at his horse's heels, and saw the deluge pass. 

Less fortunate was Daniel Peyton, a rich young 
man of Johnstown. He heard at Conemaugh the 
message sent down from South Fork by the 
gallant Parke. . In a moment he sprang into the 
saddle. Mounted on a grand, big, bay horse, he 
came riding down the pike which passes through 
Conemaugh to Johnstown, like some angel of 
wrath of old, shouting his warning : 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. , 99 

"Run for your lives to the hills ! Run to the 
hills !" 

The people crowded out of their houses along 
the thickly settled streets awe-struck and wonder- 
ing. No one knew the man, and some thought 
he was a maniac and laughed. On and on, at a 
deadly pace, he rode, and shrilly rang out his 
awful cry. In a few moments, however, there came 
a cloud of ruin down the broad streets, down the 
narrow alleys, grinding, twisting, hurling, over- 
turning, crashing- — annihilatino- the weak and the 
strone. It was the charo-e of the flood, wearing;- 
its coronet of ruin and devastation, which grew at 
every instant of its progress. Forty feet high, 
some say, thirty according to others, was this sea, 
and It travelled with a swiftness like that which lay 
in the heels of Mercury. 

On and on raced the rider, on and on rushed 
the wave. Dozens of people took heed of the 
warning and ran up to the hills. 

Poor, faithful rider ! It was an unequal contest. 
Just as he turned to cross the railroad bridge the 
mighty wall fell upon him, and horse, rider, and» 
bridge all went out into chaos together. 

A few feet further on several cars of the Penn- 
sylvania Railroad train from Pittsburg were caught 
up and hurried into the cauldron, and the heart of 
the town was reached. 



iOO THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

The hero had turned neither to the right nor 
left for himself, but rode on to death for his towns- 
men. When found Peyton was lying face up- 
ward beneath the remnants of massive oaks, 
while hard by lay the gallant horse that had so 
nobly done all in his power for humanity before 
he started to seek a place of safety for himself 

Mrs. Oo-le, the manao-er of the Western Union 
telegraph office, who died at her post, will go 
down in history as a heroine of the highest order. 
Notwithstanding the repeated notifications which 
she received to get out of reach of the ap- 
proaching danger, she stood by the instruments 
with unflinching loyalty and undaunted courage, 
sending;- words of warnincr to those in dancjer in 
the valley below. When every station in the 
path of the coming torrent had been warned, she 
wired her companion at South Fork : " This is 
my last message," and as such it shall always be 
rem.embered as her last words on earth, for at 
that very moment the torrent engulfed her and 
bore her from her post on earth to her post of 
honor in the great beyond. 

Miss Nina Speck, daugliter of the Rev. David 
Speck, pastor of the First United Brethren 
Church, of Chambersburg, was in Johnstown vis- 
iting her brother and narrowly escaped death in 
the flood. She arrived hom'e clad in nondescript 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 1 01 

clothing, which had been furnished by an old 
colored washerwoman, and told the following 
story of the flood : 

"Our house was in Kernsville, a part of Johns- 
town through which Stony Creek ran. Although 
we were a square from the creek, the back-water 
from the stream had flooded the streets in the 
morning and was up to our front porch. At four 
o'clock on Friday afternoon we were sitting on 
the front porch watching the flood, when we heard 
a roar as of a tornado or mighty conflagra- 
tion. 

" We rushed up-stairs and got out upon the bay- 
window. There an awful sight met our eyes. 
Down the Conemaugh Valley was advancing a 
mighty wall of water and mist with a terrible roar. 
Before it were roUinsf houses and buildino^s of all 
kinds, tossing over and over. We. thought it was 
a cyclone, the roar sounding like a tempest among 
forest trees. We started down-stairs and out 
through the rear of the house to escape to the 
hillside near by. But before we could get there 
the water was up to our necks and we could make 
no progress. We turned back and were literally 
dashed by the current into the house, which began 
to move off as soon as were in it again. From 
the second-story window I saw a young man 
driftincr toward us. I broke the or-lass from the 
frames with my hands and helped him in, and in 



I O 2 THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 

a few minutes more I pulled in an old man, a 
neighbor, who had been sick. 

" Our house moved rapidly down the stream 
and fortunately lodged against a strong building. 
The water forced us out of the second-story up 
into the attic. Then we heard a lot of people on 
our roof besforino- us for God's sake to let them in. 
I broke throuo-h the roof with a bed-slat and 
pulled them in. Soon we had thirteen In all 
crouched In the attic. 

" Our house was rocking, and every now and 
then a building would crash against us. Every 
moment we thouo^ht we would o-o down. The 
roofs of all the houses drifting by us were covered 
with people, nearly all praying and some singing 
hymns, and now and then a house would break 
apart and all would go down. On Saturday at 
noon we were rescued, making our way from one 
building to the next by crawling on narrow planks. 
I counted hundreds of bodies lying in the 
debris, most of them covered over with earth and 
showing only the outlines of the form." 

Opposite the northern wall of the Methodist 
Church the flood struck the new Queen Anne 
house of John Fronheiser, a superintendent In the 
Cambria Works. He was at home, as most men 
were that day, trying to calm the fears of the 
women and children of the family during the ear- 
lier flood. Down went the front of the new Oueen 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. jO"^ 

Anne house, and into the wreck of it fell the Su- 
perintendent, two elder children, a girl and a boy. 
As the flood passed he heard the boy cry : " Don't 
let me drown, papa ; break my arms first !" and 
the girl : " Cut off my legs, but don't let me 
drown !" 

And as he heard them, came a wilder cry from his 
wife drifting down with the current, to " Save the 
baby." But neither wife nor baby could be saved, 
and boy and girl stayed in the wreck until the 
water went down and they were extricated. 

Horror piled on horror is the story from Johns- 
town down to the viaduct. Horror shot through 
with intense lights of heroism, and here and there 
pervaded with gleams of humor. It is known that 
one o-irl sane as she was whirled throuofh the 
flood, " Jesus, lover of my soul," until the water 
stopped her singing forever. It is known that 
Elvie Duncan, daughter of the Superintendent of 
the Street Car Company, when her family was 
separated and she was swept away with her baby 
sister, kept the little thing alive by chewing bread 
and feeding it to her. It is known that John 
Dibart, banker, died as helplessly in his splendid 
house as John McKee the prisoner in his cell ; 
that the pleasant park, with the chain fence about 
it, was so completely annihilated that not even one 
root of the many shade trees within its boundaries 
remains. It is known also that to a leaden-footed 



104 ^^^-^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

messenger boy, who was ambling along Main 
Street, fear lent wings to lift him into the Tribune 
office in the second story of the Post Office, and 
that the Rosensteels, general storekeepers of 
-Woodvale, were swept into the windows of their 
friends, the Cohens, retail storekeepers of Main 
Street, Johnstown, two miles frotn where they 
started. It is known that the Episcopal Church, at 
Locust and Market Streets^ went down like a 
house of cards, or as the German Lutheran had 
gone, in the path of the flood, and that Rector 
Diller, his wife and child, and adopted daughter 
went with it, while of their next-door neighbors, 
Frank Daly, of the Cambria Company, and his 
mother, the son was drowned and the mother, not 
so badly hurt in body as in spirit, died three nights 
after in the Mercy Hospital, Pittsburg. 

But while the flood was driving people to silent 
death down the valley, there was a sound of lam- 
entation on the hills. Hundreds who had climbed 
there to be out of reach during the morning's 
freshet saw the city in the valley disappearing, 
and their cries rose high above the crash and the 
roar. Little time had eyes to watch or lips to cry. 
O'Brien, the disabled Millville storekeeper, was 
one of the crowd in the park. He saw a town 
before him, then a mountain of timber approach- 
ing, then a dizzy swirl of men at the viaduct, a 
breakino- of the embankment to the east of it, the 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. j^c 

forming of a whirlpool there that ate up homes 
and those that dwelt In them, as a cauldron of 
molten iron eats up the metal scraps that are 
thrown in to cool it, and then a silence and a. 
subsidence. 

It was a quarter of four o'clock. At half-past 
three there had been a Johnstown. Now there 
was none. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

VOLUMES might be written of the sufferings 
endured and valor exhibited by the survi- 
vors of the flood, or of the heart-rending grief 
with which so many were stricken. At Johnstown 
an utterly wretched woman named Mrs. Fenn 
stood by a muddy pool of water trying to find 
some trace of a once happy home. She was half 
crazed with grief, and her eyes were red and 
swollen. As a correspondent stepped to her side 
she raised her pale, haggard face and remarked: 
"They are all gone. O God! be merciful to 
them ! My husband and my seven dear little 
children have been swept down with the flood, and 
I am left alone. We were driven by the awful 
flood into the garret, but the water followed us 
there. Inch by inch it kept rising, until our heads 
were crushing against the roof. It was death to 
remain. So I raised a window, and one by one, 
placed my darlings on some driftwood, trusting to 
the great Creator. As I liberated the last one, 
my sweet little boy, he looked at me and said : 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. jq^ 

* Mamma, you always told me that the Lord would 
care for me ; will He look after me now ?' I saw 
him drift away with his loving face turned toward 
me, and, with a prayer on my lips for his deliver- 
ance, he passed from sight forever. The next 
moment the roof crashed in, and I floated outside, 
to be rescued fifteen hours later from the roof of 
a house in Kernsville. If I could only find one of 
my darlings I could bow to the will of God, but 
they are all gone. I have lost everything on earth 
now but my life, and I will return to my old Vir- 
ginia home and lay me down for my last great 
sleep." 

A handsome woman, with hair as black as a 
raven's wing, walked through the depot where a 
dozen or more bodies were awaitino- burial. Pass- 
ing from one to another, she finally lifted the 
paper covering from the face of a woman, young, 
and with traces of beauty showing through the 
stains of muddy water, and with a cry of anguish 
she reeled backward to be caught by a rugged 
man who chanced to be passing. In a moment 
or so she had calmed herself sufficiently to take 
one more look at the features of her dead. She 
stood gazing at the corpse as if dumb. Finally, 
turning away with another wild burst of grief, she 
said : " And her beautiful hair all matted and her 
sweet face so bruised and stained with mud and 
water !" The dead woman was the sister of the 



I08 "^^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

mourner. The body was placed in a coffin a few 
minutes later and sent away to its narrow house. 
A woman was seen to smile, one morning just 
after the catastrophe, as she came down the steps 
of Prospect Hill, at Johnstown. She ran down 
lightly, turning up toward the stone bridge. She 
passed the little railroad station where the under- 
takers were at work embalming the dead, and 
walked slowly until she got opposite the station. 
Then she stopped and danced a few steps. There 
was but a small crowd there. The woman raised 
her hands above her 'head and sang. She be- 
came quiet and then suddenly burst into a fren- 
zied fit of weeping and beat her forehead with 
her hands. She tore her dress, which was already 
in rags. 

" I shall go crazy," she screamed, " if they do 
not find his body." 

The poor woman could not go crazy, as her 
mind had been already shattered. 

'' He was a good man," she went on, while the 
onlookers listened pityingly. " I loved him and 
he loved me." 

"Where is he ?" she screamed. 'T must find 
him." 

And she started at the top of her speed down 
the track toward the river. Some men caught 
her. She struggled desperately for a few mo- 
ments, and then fainted. 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. Ill 

Her name was Eliza Adams, and she was a 
bride of but two months. Her husband was a 
foreman at the Cambria Iron Works and was 
drowned. 

The body of a beautiful young girl of twenty 
was found wedged in a mass of ruins just below* 
the Cambria Iron Works. She was taken out 
and laid on the damp grass. She was tall, slen- 
der, of well-rounded form, clad in a long red wrap- 
per, with lace at her throat and wrists. Her feet 
were encased in pretty embroidered slippers. 
Her face was a study for an artist. Features clear 
cut as though chiseled from Parian marble ; and, 
strangely enough, they bore not the slightest dis- 
figurement, and had not the swelled aid puffed 
appearance that was present in neaH;^ all the other 
drowned victims. A smile rested on her lips. 
Her hair, which had evidently been golden, was 
matted with mud and fell in heavy masses to her 
waist. 

" Does any one know her?" was asked of the 
silent group that had gathered around. 

No one did, and she was carried to the im- 
provised morgue in the school-house, and now fills 
a ofrave as one of the " unidentified dead." 

Miss Rose Clark was fastened in the debris at 
the railroad bridge, at Johnstown. The force of 
the water had torn all of her garments off and 
pinned her left leg below the water between two 



I I 2 THE JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 

beams. She was more calm than the men who 
were trying to rescue her. The flames were 
coming nearer, and the intense heat scorching her 
bare skin. She begged the men to cut off the 
imprisoned leg. Finally half of the men turned 
and fought the fire, while the rest endeavored to 
rescue Miss Clark. After six hours of hard work, 
and untold suffering by the brave little lady she 
was taken from the ruins in a dead faint. She 
was one mass of bruises, from her breast to her 
knees, and her left arm and leg were broken. 

Just below Johnstown, on the Conemaugh, 
three women were working on the ruins of what 
had been their home. An old arm-chair was 
taken from the ruins by the men. When one of 
the women saw the chair, it brought back a wealth 
of memory, probably the first since the flood 
occurred, and throwing herself on her knees on 
the wreck she gave way to a flood of tears. 

"Where in the name of God," she sobbed, 
" did you get that chair ? It was mine — no, I 
don't want it. Keep it and find for me, if you can, 
my album. In it are the faces of my husband and 
little girl." 

Patrick Downs was a worker in one of the 
mills of the Cambria Iron Works. He had a wife 
and a fourteen-year-old daughter, Jessie Downs, 
who was a great favorite with the sturdy, hard- 
handed fellow-workmen of her father. 



THE J OHNS rO WN FLOOD. I I _^ 

She was of rare beauty and sweetness. Her 
waving, golden-yellow hair, brushed away from a 
face of wondrous whiteness, was confined by a 
ribbon at the neck. Lustrous Irish blue eyes 
lighted up the lovely face and ripe, red lips parted 
in smiles for the workmen in the mills, every one 
of whom was her lover. 

Jessie was In the mill when the flood struck the 
town, and had not been seen since till the work 
of cleaning up the Cambria plant was begun in 
earnest. Then, in the cellar of the building a 
workman spied a little shoe protruding from a 
closely packed bed of sandy mud. In a few 
moments the body of Jessie Downs was uncov- 
ered. 

The workmen who had been in such scenes as 
this for six days stood about with uncovered heads 
and sobbed like babies. The body had not been 
bruised nor hurt in any way, the features being 
composed as If In sleep. 

The men gathered up the body of their little 
sweetheart and were carrying It through the town 
on a stretcher when they met poor Patrick Downs. 
He gazed upon the form of his baby, but never 
a tear was In his eye, and he only thanked God 
that she had not suffered in contest with the angry 
waves. 

He had but a moment before Identified the 
body of his wife among the dead recovered, and 



I I 4 THE yOHNSTO WN FL OD. 

the mother and child were laid away together in 
one orrave on Grove Hill, and the father resumed 
work with the others. 

Dr. Lowman is one of the most prominent phy- 
sicians of Western Pennsylvania. His residence 
in Johnstown was protected partially from thet 
avalanche of water by the Methodist Church, 
which is a large stone structure. Glancing up- 
stream, the Doctor saw advancing what seemed to 
be a huge mountain. Grasping the situation, he 
ran in and told the family to get to the top floors 
as quickly as possible. They had scarcely reached 
the second floor when the water was pouring into 
the windows. They went higher up, and the 
water followed them, but it soon reached its 
extreme height. 

While the family were huddled in the third 
story the Doctor looked out and saw a young girl 
floatine toward the window on a door. He 
smashed the glass, and, at the great risk of his 
Own life, succeeded in hauling the door toward 
him and liftine the grirl throuorh the window. She 
had not been there lono- when one corner of the 
building gave way and she became frightened. 
She insisted on taking a shutter and floating down- 
stream. In vain did the Doctor try to persuade 
her to forego such a suicidal attempt. She said ' 
that she was a good swimmer, and that, once out 
in the water, she had no fears for her ultimate 



THE J OIINS TO WN FL OD. i i ^ 

safety. Resisting all entreaties and taking a shut- 
ter from the window, she plunged out into the 
surging waters, and has not since been heard 
from. 

When the girl deserted the house, Dr. Lowman 
and his family made their way to the roof While 
up there another corner of the house gave way. 
After waiting for «^everal hours, the intervening 
space between the bank building and the dwelling 
became filled with drift. The Doctor gathered 
his family around him, and after a perilous walk 
they all reached the objective point in safety. 
Dr. Lowman's aged father was one of the party. 
When his family was safe Dr. Lowman started to 
rescue other unfortunates. All day Saturday he 
worked like a beaver in water to his neck, and he 
saved the lives of many. 

No man returns from the valley of death with 
more horrible remembrance of the flood than Dr. 
Henry H. Phillips, of Pittsburg. He is the only 
one known to be saved out of a household of 
thirteen, among whom was his feeble old mother 
and other near and dear friends. His own life 
was saved by his happening to step out upon the 
portico of the house just as the deluge came. 
Dr. Phillips had gone to Johnstown to bring his 
mother, who was an invalid, to his home in the 
East End. They had intended starting for Pitts- 
burg Friday morning, but Mrs. Phillips did not 



Il5 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

feel able to make the journey, and it was post- 
poned until the next day. In the meantime the 
flood began to come, and during the afternoon of 
Friday the family retired to the upper floors of 
the house for safety. There were thirteen in the 
house, including little Susan McWilliams, the 
twelve-year-old daughter of Mr. W. H. Mc- 
Williams, of Pittsburg, who was visiting her aunt, 
Mrs, Phillips ; Dr. L. T. Beam, son-in-law of Mrs. 
Phillips ; another niece, and Mrs. Dowling, a 
neighbor. The latter had come there with her 
children because the Phillips house was a brick 
structure while her own was frame. Its destruc- 
tion proved to be the more sudden and complete 
on account of the material. 

The water was a foot deep on the first floor, 
and the family were congratulating themselves 
that they were so comfortably situated in the 
upper story, when Dr. Phillips heard a roaring 
up toward the Cambria Iron Works. Without a 
thought of the awful truth, he stepped out upon 
the portico of the house to see what it meant. 
A wall of water and wreckage loomed up before 
him like a roaring cloud. Before he could turn 
back or cry out he saw a house, that rode the 
flood like a chip, come between him and his vision 
of the window. Then all was dark, and the cold 
water seemed to wrap him up and toss him to a 
house-top three hundred yards from where that 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. w"] 

of his mother had stood. Gathering his shattered 
wits together the Doctor saw he was floating 
about in the midst of a black pool. Dark objects 
were moving all about him, and although there 
was some light, he could not recognize any of 
the surroundings. For seventeen hours he drifted 
about upon the wreckage where fate had tossed 
him. Then rescuers came, and he was taken to 
safe quarters. A long search has so far failed to 
elicit any tidings of the twelve persons in the 
Phillips' house. 

Mr. G. B. Hartley, of Philadelphia, was one of 
the five out of fifty-five guests of the Hurlburt 
House who survived. 

" The experience I passed through at Johns- 
town on that dreadful Friday night," said Mr. 
Hartley to a correspondent, " is like a horrible 
nightmare in a picture before me. When the 
pfreat rush of water came I was sittino- in the 
parlors of the Hurlburt House. Suddenly we 
were startled to hear several loud shouts on the 
streets. These cries were accompanied by a loud, 
crashinof noise. At the first sound we all rushed 
from the room panic-stricken. There was a crash 
and I found myself pinned down by broken boards 
and debris of different kinds. The next moment 
I felt the water surmne in. I knew it went hio-her 
than my head because I felt it. The water must 
have passed like a flash or I would not have come 
out alive. After the shock I could see that the 



I I 8 THE JOHNS TO WN FL O OD. 

entire roof of the hotel had been carried off. 
Catching hold of something I manged to pull 
myself up on to the roof. The roof had slid off 
and lay across the street. On the roof I had a 
chance to observe my surroundings. Down on 
the extreme edge of the roof I espied the proprie- 
tor of the hotel, Mr. Benford. He was nearly 
exhausted, and it required every effort for him to 
hold to the roof. Cautiously advancing, I man- 
aged to creep down to where he was holding. I 
tried to pull him up, but found I was utterly 
powerless. Mr. Benford was nearly as weak as 
myself, and could do very little toward helping 
himself. We did not give up, however, and in a 
few minutes, by dint of struggling and putting 
forth every bit of strength, Mr. Benford managed 
to crawl upon the roof. Crouching and shivering 
on another part of the roof were two girls, one a 
chamber-maid of the hotel, and the other a clerk 
in a store that was next to it. The latter was in 
a pitiable plight. Her arm had been torn from its 
socket. I took off my overcoat and gave it to her. 
Mr. Benford did the same thing for the other, for it 
was quite chilly. A young man was nursing his 
mother, who had had her scalp completely torn 
off. He asked me to hold her head until he could 
make a bandage. He tore a thick strip of cloth 
and placed it round her head. The blood satu- 
rated it before it was well on. Soon after this I 
was rescued more dead than alive." 



M 



CHAPTER IX. 



ANY of the most thrlllinof sigfhts and ex- 



periences were those of railroad employees 
and passengers. Mr. Henry, the engineer of the 
second section of express train No. 8, which runs 
between Pittsburg and Altoona, was at Conemaugh 
when the great flood came sweeping down the 
valley. He was able to escape to a place of safety. 
His was the only train that was not injured, even 
thouofh it was in the midst of the p-reat wave. The 
story as related by Mr. Henry is most graphic. 

" It was an awful sight," he said. " I have often 
seen pictures of flood scenes and I thought they 
Were exacraerations, but what I witnessed last 
Friday changes my former belief. To see that 
immense volume of water, fully fifty feet high, 
rushing madly down the valley, sweeping every- 
thinor before it, was a thrillinQf sierht. It is eng-raved 
indelibly on my memory. Even now I can see 
that mad torrent carrying death and destruction 
before it. 

" The second section of No. 8, on which I was, 

1^9 



I20 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

was due at Johnstown about quarter past ten In 
the morning. We arrived there safely and were 
told to follow the first section. When we arrived 
at Conemaugh the first section and the mail were 
there. Washouts further up the mountain pre- 
vented our going on, so we could do nothing but 
sit around and discuss the situation. The creek 
at Conemaugh was swollen high, almost over- 
flowing. The heavens were pouring rain^ but 
this did not prevent nearly all the inhabitants of 
the town from gathering along its banks. They 
watched the waters go dashing by and wondered 
whether the creek would eet much hio^her. But a 
few inches more and it would overflow its banks. 
There seemed to be a feeling of uneasiness amongf 
the people. They seemed to fear that something 
awful was going to happen. Their suspicions 
were strengthened by the fact that warning had 
come down the valley for the people to be on the 
lookout. The rains had swollen everything to the 
bursting point. The day passed slowly, however. 
Noon came and went, and still nothing happened. 
We could not proceed, nor could we go back, as 
the tracks about a mile below Conemaugh had 
been washed away, so there was nothing for us to 
do but to wait and see what would come next. 

" Some time after three o'clock Friday afternoon 
I went into the train dispatcher's office to learn 
the latest news. I had not been there long when 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL O OD. I 2 I 

I heard a fierce whistling- from an engine away 
up the mountain. Rushing out I found dozens 
of men standing around. Fear had blanched 
every cheek. The loud and continued whistling- 
had made every one feel that something serious 
was going to happen. In a few moments I could 
hear a train rattling down the mountain. About 
five hundred yards above Conemaugh the tracks 
make a slight curve and we could not see beyond 
this. The suspense was something awful. We 
did not know what was coming, but no one could 
get rid of the thought that something was wrong 
at the dam. 

" Our suspense was not very long, however. 
Nearer and nearer the train came, the thundering 
sound still accompanying it. There seemed to be 
something behind the train, as there was a dull, 
rumbling sound which I knew did not come from 
the train. Nearer and nearer it came ; a moment 
more and it would reach the curve. The next 
instant there burst upon our eyes a sight that 
made every heart stand still. Rushing around the 
curve, snorting and tearing, came an engine and 
several gravel cars. The train appeared to be 
putting forth every effort to go faster. Nearer 
it came, belching forth smoke and Mdiistl-ing long 
and loud. But the most terrible sight was to fol- 
low. Twenty feet behind camxC surging along a mad 
rush of water fully fifty feet high. Like the train, 



12 2 THE J OHNSTO WN FL OD. 

it seemed to be putting forth every effort to push 
alonof faster. Such an awful race we never before 
witnessed. For an instant the people seemed 
paralyzed with horror. They knew not what to 
do, but in a moment they realized that a second's 
delay meant death to them. With one accord they 
rushed to the high lands a few hundred feet away. 
Most of them succeeded in reaching that place 
and were safe. 

" I thought of the passengers in my train. The 
second section of No. 8 had three sleepers. In 
these three cars were about thirty people, who 
rushed through the train crying to the others 
* Save yourselves !' Then came a scene of the 
wildest confusion. Ladies and children shrieked 
and the men seemed terror-stricken. I succeeded 
ill helping some ladies and children off the train 
and up to the high lands. Running back, I 
caught up two children and ran for my life to a 
higher place. Thank God, I was quicker than the 
flood! I deposited my load in safety on the high 
land just as it swept past us. 

" For nearly an hour we stood watching the 
mad flood go rushing by. The water was full of 
debris. When the flood caught Conemaugh it 
dashed against the little town with a mighty 
crash. The water did not lift the houses up and 
carry them ofl", but crushed them up one against 
the other and broke them up like so many ^%^-' 



THE JOHNS TOWN FLOOD. I 2 3 

shells. Before the flood came there was a pretty 
little town. When the waters passed on there 
was nothlne but a few broken boards to mark the 
central portion of the city. It was swept as clean 
as a newly-brushed floor. When the flood passed 
onward down the valley I went over to my train. 
It had been moved back about twenty yards, but 
it was not damaged. About fifteen persons had 
remained in the train and they were safe. Of the 
three trains ours was the luckiest. The engines 
of both the others had been swept off the track, 
and one or two cars in each train had met the 
same fate. What saved our train was the fact 
that just at the curve which I mentioned the 
valley spread out. The valley Is six or seven 
hundred yards broad where our train was stand- 
ing. This, of course, let the floods pass out. It 
was only about twenty feet high when it struck 
our train, which was about in the middle of the 
valley. This fact, together with the elevation of 
the track, was all that saved us. We stayed that 
niofht in the houses in Conemauoh that had not 
been destroyed. The next morning I started 
down the valley and by four o'clock in the after- 
noon had reached Conemaugh furnace, eight 
miles west of Johnstown, Then I got a team and 
came home. 

" In my tramp down the valley I saw some 
awful sights. On the tree branches hung shreds 



124 '^^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

of clothing torn from the unfortunates as they 
were whirled along in the terrible rush of the tor- 
rent. Dead bodies were lying by scores along 
the banks of the creeks. One woman I helped 
drag from the mud had tightly clutched in her 
hand a paper. We tore it out of her hand and 
found it to be a badly water-soaked photograph. 
It was probably a picture of the drowned wo- 
man." 

Pemberton Smith is a civil engineer employed 
by the Pennsylvania Railroad. On Friday, when 
the disaster occurred, he was at Johnstown, stop- 
ping at the Merchants' Hotel. What happened 
he described as follows : 

" In the afternoon, with four associates, I spent 
the time playing checkers in the hotel, the streets 
being flooded during the day. At half-past four 
we were startled by shrill whistles. Thinking a 
fire was the cause, we looked out of the window. 
Great masses of people were rushing through the 
water in the street, which had been there all day, 
and still we thouofht the alarm was fire. All of a 
sudden the roar of the water burst upon our ears, 
and in an instant more the streets were filled with 
debris. Great houses and business blocks began" 
to topple and crash Into each other and go down 
as if they were toy-block houses. People in the 
streets were drowning on all sides. One of our 
company started down-stairs and was drowned. 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. I2r 

The other four, including myself, started up-stairs, 
for the water was fast rising. When we got on 
the roof we could see whole blocks swept away 
as if by magic. Hundreds of people were float- 
ing by, clinging to roofs of houses, rafts, timbers, 
or anything they could get a hold of. The hotel 
began to tremble, and we made our way to an 
adjoining roof. Soon afterward part of the hotel 
went down. The brick structures seemed to fare 
worse than frame buildings, as the latter would 
float, while the brick would crash and tumble into 
one great mass of ruins. We finally climbed into 
a room of the last building in reach and stayed 
there all night, in company with one hundred and 
sixteen other people, among the number being a 
crazy man. His wife and family had all been 
drowned only a few hours before, and he was a 
raving maniac. And what a night ! Sleep ! Yes, 
I did a little, but every now and then a building 
near by would crash against us, and we would all 
jump, fearing that at last our time had come. 

" Finally morning dawned. In company with 
one of my associates we climbed across the tops of 
houses and floating debris, built a raft, and poled 
ourselves ashore to the hillside. I don't know 
how the others escaped. This was seven o'clock 
on Saturday morning. We started on foot for 
South Fork, arriving there at three p. m. Here 
we found that all communication by telegraph and 



I 2 6 THE J OHNS TO VVN FL O OD. 

railroad was cut off by the flood, and we had 
naught to do but retrace our steps. Tired and 
footsore ! Well, I should say so. My gum-boots 
had chafed my feet so I could hardly walk at all. 
The distance we covered on foot was over fifty 
miles. On Sunday we got a train to Altoona. 
Here we found the railroad connections all cut off, 
so we came back to Johnstown again on Monday. 
And what a desolate place ! I had to obtain a pass 
to go over into the city. Here it is : 

" Pass Pemberton Smith through all the streets. 

" Alec. Hart, Chief of Police. 
"A. J. Maxham, Acting Mayor.'' 

"The tragic pen-pictures of the scenes in the 
press dispatches have not been exaggerated. 
They cannot be. The worse sight of all was to 
see the orgeat fire at the railroad-bridge. It makes 
my blood fairly curdle to think of it. I could see 
the lurid flames shoot heavenward all night Friday, 
and at the same time hundreds of people were 
floating right toward them on top of houses, etc., 
and to meet a worse death than drowning. To 
look at a sight like this and not be able to render 
a particle of assistance seemed awful to bear. I 
had a narrow escape, truly. In my mind I can 
hear the shrieks of men, women, and children, the 
maniac's ravings, and the wild roar of a sea of 
water sweeping everything before it." 



THE JOHNS TO \VN FL O OD. I 2 Q 

Among the lost was Miss Jennie Paulson, a 
passenger on a railroad train, whose fate is thus 
described by one of her comrades : 

" We had been making but slow progress all 
the day. Our train lay at Johnstown nearly the 
whole day of Friday, We then proceeded as far 
as Conemaugh, and had stopped from some cause 
or other, probably on account of the flood. Miss 
Paulson and a Miss Bryan were seated in front 
of me. Miss Paulson had on a plaid dress, with 
shirred waist of red cloth goods. Her companion 
was dressed in black. Both had lovely corsage 
bouquets of roses. I had heard that they had 
been attending a wedding before they left Pitts- 
burg. The Pitttsburg lady was reading a novel 
entitled Miss Lou. Miss Bryan was looking 
out of the window. When the alarm came we all 
sprang toward the door, leaving everything 
behind us. I had just reached the door when 
poor Miss Paulson and her friend, who were 
behind me, decided to return for their rubbers, 
which they did. I sprang from the car into a ditch 
next the hillside, in which the water was already a 
foot and a-half deep, and, with the others, climbed 
up the mountain side for our very lives. We had 
to do so, as the water glided up after us like a 
huge serpent. Any one ten feet behind us would 
have been lost beyond a doubt. I glanced back 
at the train when I had reached a place of safety, 



I^o THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

but the water already covered it, and the Pullman 
car in which the ladies were was already rolling 
down the valley in the grasp of the angry waters." 

Mr. William Scheerer, the teller of the State 
Banking Company, of Newark, N. J., was among 
the passengers on the ill-fated day express on the 
Pennsylvania Railroad that left Pittsburg at 
eight o'clock a. m., on the now historic Friday, 
bound for New York. 

There was some delays incidental to the floods 
in the Conemaugh Valley before the train reached 
Johnstown, and a further delay at that point, and 
the train was considerably behind time when it 
left Johnstown. Said Mr. Scheerer: " The parlor 
car was fully occupied when I went aboard the 
train, and a seat was accordingly given me in the 
sleeper at the rear end of the train. There were 
several passengers in this car, how many I cannot 
say exactly, among them some ladies. It was rain- 
ing hard all the time and we were not a very ex- 
cited nor a happy crowd, but were whiling away 
the time in -reading and in looking at the swollen 
torrent of the river. Very few of the people were 
apprehensive of any danger in the situation, even 
after we had been held up at Conemaugh for 
nearly five hours. 

" The railroad tracks where our train stopped 
were full fourteen feet above the level of the 
river, and there was a large number of freight 



THE J OIINS TO WN FLOOD. I 3 I 

and passenger cars and locomotives standing on 
the tracks near us and strung along up the road 
for a considerable distance. Between the road 
and the hill that lay at our left there was a ditch, 
through which the water that came down from the 
hill was running like a mill-race. It was a monot- 
onous wait to all of us, and after a time many in- 
quiries were made as to why we did not go ahead. 
Some of the passengers who made the inquiry 
were answered laconically — ' Wash-out,' and with 
this they had to be satisfied. I had been over the 
road several times before, and knew of the exist- 
ence of the dangerous and threatening dam up 
in the South Fork gorge, and could not help con- 
necting it in my mind with the cause of our delay. 
But neither was I apprehensive of danger, for the 
possibility of the dam giving away had been often 
discussed by passengers in my presence, and 
everybody supposed that the utmost damage it 
would do when it broke, as everybody believed it 
sometime would, would be to swell a little higher 
the current that tore down through the Cone- 
maugh Valley. 

"Such a possibility as the carrying away of a 
train of cars on the great Pennsylvania road was 
never seriously entertained by anybody. We had 
stood stationary until about four o'clock, when 
two colored porters went through the car within 
a short time of e-ach other, looking and acting 



I 3 2 THE yOHNSTO WN FL O OD. 

rather excited. I asked the first one what the 
matter was, and he repHed that he did not know. 
I inferred from his reply that if there was any 
thing serious up, the passengers would be in- 
formed, and so I went on reading. When the 
next man came alonsf I asked him if the reservoir 
had given way, and he said he thought it had. 

"I put clown my book and stepped out quickly 
to the rear platform, and was horrified at the sight 
that met my gaze up the valley. It seemed as if 
a forest was coming down upon us. There was 
a great wall of water roaring and grinding swiftly 
along, so thickly studded with the trees from 
alone the mountain sides that it looked like a 
eieantic avalanche of trees. Of course I linofered 
but an instant, for the mortal danger we all were 
in flashed upon me at the first sight of that ter- 
rible on-coming torrent. But in that instant I saw 
an engine lifted bodily off the track and thrown 
over backward Into the whirlpool, where it disap- 
peared, and houses crushed and broken up in the 
flash of an eye, 

" The noise was like incessant thunder. I turned 
back into the car and shouted to the ladies, three 
of whom alone were in the car at the moment, to 
fly for their lives. I helped them out of the car 
on the side toward the hill, and urged them to 
jump across the ditch and run for their lives. Two 
of them did so, but the third, a rather heavy lady, 



THE JOHNS TO WN TLOOD. j ^ ^ 

a missionary, who was on her way to a foreign 
station, hesitated for an instant, doubtful if she 
could make the jump. That instant cost her her 
life. While I was holding out my hand to her and 
urging her to jump, the rush of waters came down 
and swept her, like a doll, down into the torrent. 
In the same instant an engine was thrown from 
the track into the ditch at my feet. The water 
was about my knees as I turned and scrambled up 
the hill, and when I looked back, ten seconds later, 
it was surging and grinding ten feet deep over 
the track I had just left. 

*' The rush of waters lasted three-quarters of an 
hour, while we stood rapt and spell-bound in the 
rain, looking at the ruin no human agency could 
avert. The scene was beyond the power of lan- 
Sfuasfe to describe. You would see a buildine 
standing in apparent security above the swollen 
banks of the river, the people rushing about the 
doors, some seeming to think that safety lay in- 
doors, while others rushed toward higher ground, 
stumbling and falling in the muddy streets, and 
then the flood rolled over them, crushing in the 
house with a crash like thunder, and burying house 
and people out of sight entirely. That, of course, 
was the scene of only an instant, for our range of 
vision was only over a small portion of the city. 

" We sought shelter from the rain In the home 
of a farmer who lived high up on the side-hill, 



1^4 I^HE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

and the next morning walked down to Johnstown 
and viewed the ruins. It seemed as if the city 
was utterly destroyed. The water was deep 
over all the city and few people were visible. We 
returned to Conemaugf^h and were driven over 
the mountains to Ebensburg, where we took the 
train for Altoona, but finding we could get no 
further in that direction we turned back to Ebens- 
burg, and from there went by wagon to Johns- 
town, where we found a train that took us to 
Pittsburg. I got home by the New York 
Central." 



CHAPTER X. 

EDWARD H. JACKSON, who worked In 
the Cambria Iron Works, told the follow- 
ing story : 

" When we were going- to work Friday morn- 
ing at seven o'clock, May 31st, the water in the 
river was about six inches below the top of the 
banks, the rains during the night having swollen 
it. We were used to floods about this time of the 
year, the water always washing the streets and 
running into the cellars, so we we did not pay 
much attention to this fact. It continued rising, 
and about nine o'clock we left work in order to gro 
back to our homes and take our furniture and 
carpets to the upper floors, as we had formerly 
done on similar occasions. At noon the water 
was on our first floors, and kept rising until there 
was five feet of water in our homes. It was still 
raining hard. We were all in the upper stories 
about half-past four, when the first intimation we 
had of anything unusual was a frightful crash, 
and the same moment our house toppled over, 

135 



136 THE foMSToWN PLOOD. 

Jumping to the windows, we saw the water rush^ 
ing down the streets in immense volumes, carry- 
ing with it houses, barns, and, worst of all, scream- 
ing, terrified men, women, and children. In my 
house were Colonel A. N. Hart, who is my uncle, 
his wife, sister, and two children. They watched 
their chance, and when a slowly moving house 
passed by they jumped to the roof and by careful 
manoeuvrino- manao^ed to reach Dr. S. M. Swan's 
house, a three-story brick building, where there 
were about two hundred other people. I jumped 
on to a tender of an engine as it floated down and 
reached the same house. All the women and 
children were hysterical, most of the men were 
paralyzed by terror, and to describe the scene is 
simply impossible. From the windows of this 
house we threw ropes to persons who floated by 
on the roofs of houses, and in this way we saved 
several. 

" Our condition In the house was none of the 
pleasantest. There was nothing to eat ; it was 
impossible to sleep, even had any one desired to 
do so ; when thirsty we were compelled to catch 
the rain-water as it fell from the roof and drink it. 
Other people had gone for safety in the same 
manner as we had to two other brick houses, H. 
Y. Hawse's residence and Alma Hall's, and they 
went through precisely the same experience as 
we did. Many of our people were badly injured 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 13^ 

and cut, and they were tended bravely and well 
by Dr. W. E. Matthews, although he himself was 
badly injured. During the evening we saved by 
ropes W. Forrest Rose, his wife, daughter, and 
four boys. Mr. Rose's collar-bone and one rib 
were broken. After a fearful night we found, 
when day broke, that the water had subsided, and 
I and some others of the men crawled out upon 
the rubbish and debris to search for food, for our 
people were starving. All we could find were 
water-soaked crackers and some bananas, and 
these were eagerly eaten by the famished suf- 
ferers. 

"Then, during the morning, began the thieving. 
I saw men bursting open trunks, putting valuables 
in their pockets, and then looking for more. I 
did not know these people, but I am sure they 
must have lived in the town, for surely no others 
could have ofot there at this time. A meetinor 
was held. Colonel Hart was made Chief of Police, 
and he at once gave orders that any one caught 
stealinof should be shot without warnine. Not- 
withstanding this we afterward found scores of 
Bodies, the fingers of which were cut off, the fiends 
not wishing to waste time to take off the rings. 
Many corpses of women were seen from which 
the ears had been cut, in order to secure the dia- 
mond earrings. 

" Then, to add to our horrors, the debris piled 



I --g THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

up against the bridge caught fire, and as the 
streets were full of oil, it was feared that the 
flames would extend backwards, but happily for 
us this was not the case. It was pitiful to hear 
the cries of those who had been caught in the rub- 
bish, and, after having been half drowned, had to 
face death as inevitable as though bound to a 
stake. The bodies of those burned to death will 
never be recognized, and of those drowned many 
were so badly disfigured by being battered against 
the floating houses that they also will be unrecog- 
nizable. It is said that Charles Butler, the assist- 
ant treasurer of the Cambria Iron Works, who 
was in the Hurlburt House, convinced that he 
could not escape and wishing his body to be rec- 
ognized, pinned his photograph and a letter to the 
lapel of his coat, where they were found when his 
body was recovered. I have lost everything I 
owned in the world," said Mr. Jackson, in conclu- 
sion, "and hundreds of others are in the same 
condition. The money in the banks is all right, 
however, for it was stowed away in the vaults." 
Frank McDonald, a railroad conductor, says: 
"I certainly think I saw one thousand bodies go 
over the bridge. The first house that came down 
struck the bridge and at once took fire, and as fast 
as the others came down they were consumed. I 
believe I am safe in saying I saw one thousand 
bodies burn. It reminded me of a lot of flies on 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL O OD. \ 3 g 

fly-paper struggling to get away, with no hope 
and no chance to save them. I have no idea that 
had the bridge been blown up the loss of life would 
have been any less. They would have floated a 
little further with the same certain death. Then, 
again, it was impossible for any one to have 
reached the bridge in order to blow it up, for the 
waters came so fast that no one could have done 
it." 

Michael Renesen tells a wonderful story of his 
escape. He says he was walking down Main 
Street when he heard a rumbling noise, and, 
looking around, he imagined it was cloud, but in 
a minute the water was upon him. He floated 
with the tide for some time, when he was struck 
with some floating timber and borne underneath 
the water. When he came up he was struck 
again, and at last he was caught by a lightning 
rod and held there for over two hours, when he 
was finally rescued. 

Mrs. Anne Williams was sitting sewing when 
the flood came on. She heard some people cry- 
ing and jumped out of the window and succeeded 
in getting on the roof of an adjoining house. 
Under the roof she heard the cries of men and 
women, and saw two men and a woman with 
their heads just above the water, crying " For 
God's sake, either kill us outright or rescue us !" 

Mrs. Williams cried for help for the drowning 



I 40 ^-^^ JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 

people, but none came, and she saw them give up 
one by one. 

James F. McCanagher had a thrilHng experi- 
ence in the water. He saw his wife was safe on 
land, and thought his only daughter, a girl aged 
about twenty-one, was also saved, but just as he 
was making for the shore he saw her and went to 
rescue her. He succeeded in oettine within about 
ten feet of land, when the girl said, "Good-bye, 
father," and expired in his arms before he reached 
the shore. 

James M. Walters, an attorney, spent Friday 
night in Alma Hall, and relates a thrilling story. 
One of the most curious occurrences of the whole 
disaster was how Mr. Walters eot to the hall. He 
has his office on the second floor. His home is at 
No, 135 Walnut Street. He says he was in the 
house with his family when the waters struck it. 
All was carried away. Mr. Walters' family drifted 
on a roof in another direction ; he passed down 
several streets and alleys until he came to the hall. 
Flis dwelling struck that edifice and he was thrown 
into his own office. About three hundred persons 
had taken refuge in the hall and were on the 
second, third, and fourth stories. The men held a 
meeting and drew up some rules which all were 
bound to respect. 

Mr. Walters was chosen president, and Rev. 
Mr. Beale was put in charge of the first floor, A, 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. j .^ 

M. Hart of the second floor, Dr. Matthews of the 
fourth floor. No hghts were allowed, and the 
whole night was spent in darkness. The sick 
were cared for, the weaker women and children 
had the best accommodation that could be had, 
while the others had to wait. The scenes were 
most agonizing. Heartrending shrieks, sobs, and 
moans pierced the gloomy darkness. The crying 
of children mingled with the suppressed sobs of 
the women. Under the guardianship of the men 
all took more hope. No one slept during all the 
long, dark night. Many knelt for hours in prayer, 
their supplications mingling with the roar of the 
waters and the shrieks of the dying in the sur- 
rounding houses. 

In all this misery two women gave premature 
birth to children. Dr. Matthews is a herq — 
several of his ribs were crushed by a falling tim- 
ber, and his pains were most severe. Yet through 
all he attended the sick. When two women in a 
house across the street shouted for help, he, with 
two other brave young men, climbed across the 
drift and ministered to their wants. No one died 
durlne the niofht, but a woman and children sur- 
rendered their lives on the succeeding day as a 
result of terror and fatigue. Miss Rose Young, 
one of the young ladies In the hall, was frightfully 
cut and bruised. Mrs. Young had a leg broken. 
All of Mr. Walters' family were saved. 



J . 2 THE JOHNS TO WN FL O 01? . 

Mrs. J. F. Moore, wife of a Western Union 
Telegraph employee in Pittsburg, escaped with 
her two children from the devastated city just one 
hour before the flood had covered their dwelling- 
place. Mr. Moore had arranged to have his 
family move Thursday from Johnstown and join 
him in Pittsburg. Their household goods were 
shipped on Thursday and Friday. The little party 
caught the last train which made the trip between 
Johnstown and Pittsburg. 

Mrs. Moore told her story. " Oh ! it was 
terrible," she said. " The reservoir had not yet 
burst when we left, but the boom had broken, and 
before we eot out of the house the water filled 
the cellar. On the way to the depot the water 
was high up on the carriage wheels. Our train 
left at quarter to two p. m., and at that time the 
flood had begun to rise with terrible rapidity. 
Houses and sheds were carried away and two 
men were drowned almost before our eyes. 
People gathered on the roofs to take refuge from 
the water, which poured into the lower rooms of 
their dwellings, and many families took flight and 
became scattered. Just as the train pulled out I 
saw a woman crying bitterly. Her house had 
been flooded and she had escaped, leaving her 
husband behind, and her fears for his safety made 
her almost crazy. Our house was in the lower 
part of the town, and it makes me shudder to 



THE JOHNS rO WN Fi.OOD. 1 43 

think what would have happened had we re- 
mained in it an hour longer. So far as I know, 
we were the only passengers from Johnstown on 
the train." 

^ Mrs. Moore's little son told the reporter that 
die had seen the rats driven out of their holes by 
the flood and running along the tops of the 
fences. 

One old man named Parsons, with his wife and 
children, as soon as the water struck their house, 
took to the roof and were carried down to the 
stone bridge, where the back wash of the Stony 
Creek took them back up along the banks and 
out of harm's way, but not before a daughter-in- 
law became a prey to the torrent. He has lived 
here for thirty-five years, and had acquired a nice, 
comfortable home. To-day all is gone, and as he 
told the story he pointed to a rather seedy-looking 
coat he had on. "■ I had to ask a man for it. It's 
hard, but I am ruined, and I am too old to begin 
over again." 

Mr. Lewis was a well-to-do young man, and 
owned a good property where now is a barren 
waste. When the flood came the entire family of 
eight took to the roof, and were carried along on 
the water. Before they reached the stone bridge, 
a family of four that had floated down from 
Woodvale, two and a half miles distant, on a raft, 
got off to the roof of the Lewis House, where the 



144 " ^-^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

entire twelve persons were pushed to the bank of 
the river above the bridge, and all were saved. 
When Mr. Lewis was telling his story he seemed 
grateful to the Almighty for his safety while thou- 
sands were lost to him. 

Another young man who had also taken to a 
friendly roof, became paralyzed with fear, and 
stripping himself of his clothes flung himself from 
the housetop into the stream and tried to swim. 
The force of the water rushed him over to the 
west bank of the river, where he was picked up 
soon after. 

A baby's cradle was fished out of a ruin and 
the neatly tucked-in sheets and clothes, although 
soiled with mud, gave evidence of luxury. The 
entire family was lost, and no one is here to lay 
claim to baby's crib. In the ruin of the Penn 
House the library that occupied the extension was 
entirely gone, while the brick front was taken out 
and laid bare the parlor floor, in which the piano, 
turned upside down, was noticeable, while several 
chandeliers were scattered on top. 



CHAPTER XL 

THE first survivors of the Johnstown wreck 
who arrived at Pittsburg were Joseph and 
Henry Lauffer and Lew Dalmeyer. They en- 
dured considerable hardship and had several 
narrow escapes with their lives. Their story of 
the disaster can best be told in their own lan- 
guage. Joe, the youngest of the Lauffer brothers, 
said : 

" My brother and I left on Thursday for Johns- 
town. The night we arrived there it rained con- 
tinually, and on Friday morning it began to flood. 
I started for the Cambria store at a quarter-past 
eight on Friday, and in fifteen minutes afterward I 
had to get out of the store in a wagon, the water 
was running so rapidly. We then arrived at the 
station and took the day express and went as far 
as Conemaugh, where we had to stop. The 
limited, however, got through, and just as we 
were about to start the bridtje at South Fork 
gave way with a terrific crash, and we had to 
stay there. We then went to Johnstown. This 



J ,g THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

was at a quarter to ten in the morning, when the 
flood was just beginning. The whole city of Johns- 
town was inundated and the people all moved up 
to the second floor. 

*' Now this is where the trouble occurred. 
These poor unfortunates did not know the reser- 
voir would burst, and there are no skiffs in Johns- 
town to escape in. When the South Fork basin 
gave way mountains of water twenty feet high 
came rushing down the Conemaugh River, carry- 
ing before them death and destruction. I shall 
never forget the harrowing scene. Just think of 
it! thousands of people, men, and women, and chil- 
dren, struggling and weeping and wailing as they 
were being carried suddenly away in the raging 
current. Houses were picked up as if they were 
but a feather, and their inmates were all carried 
away with them, while cries of ' God help me !' 
'Save me!' 'I am drowning!' ' My child !' and 
the like were heard on all sides. Those who 
were lucky enough to escape went to the moun- 
tains, and there they beheld the poor unfortunates 
beino- crushed to death among the debris without 
any chance of being rescued. Here and there a 
body was seen to make a wild leap into the air 
and then sink to the bottom. 

"At the stone bridge of the Pennsylvania 
Railroad people were dashed to death against 
the piers. When the fire started there hundreds 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. j . g 

of bodies were burned. Many lookers-on up on 
the mountains, especially the woman, fainted." 

Mr. Lauffer's brother, Harry, then told his part 
of the tale, which was not less interesting. He 
said : " We had a series of narrow escapes, and 
I tell you we don't want to be around when any- 
thing of that kind occurs aorain. 

" The scenes at Johnstown have not In the least 
been exaggerated, and, indeed, the worst is to be 
heard. When we got to Conemaugh and just as 
we were about to start the bridge gave way. 
This left the day express, the accommodation, a 
special train, and a freight train at the station. 
Above was the South Fork water basin, and all of 
the trains were well filled. We were discussing 
the situation when suddenly, without any warning, 
the whistles of every engine began to shriek, and 
in the noise could be heard the warning of the first 
engineer, * Fly for your lives ! Rush to the moun- 
tains, the reservoir has burst.' Then with a thun- 
dering peal came the mad rush of waters. No 
sooner had the cry been heard than those who 
could rushed from the train with a wild leap ana 
up the mountains. To tell this story takes some 
time, but the moments in which the horrible scene 
was enacted were few. Then came the avalanche 
of water, leaping and rushing with tremendous 
force. The waves had angry crests of white, 
and their roar was something deafening. In one 



J K Q THE JOHNS TO WN FL OOD. ' ( 

terrible swath they caught the four trains and 
lifted three of them right off the track, as if they 
were only a cork. There they floated in the river. 
Think of it, three large locomotives and finely 
finished Pullmans floating around, and above 
all the hundreds of poor unfortunates who were 
unable to escape from the car swiftly drifting to- 
ward death. Just as we were about to leap from 
the car I saw a mother, with a smiling, blue-eyed 
baby in her arms. I snatched it from her and 
leaped from the train just as it was lifted off the 
track. The mother and child were saved, but if 
one more minute had elapsed we all would have 
perished. 

" During all of this time the waters kept rush- 
ino- down the Conemauor-h and throucrh the beauti- 
ful town of Johnstown, picking uj, everything and 
sparing nothing. 

"The mountains by this time were black with 
people, and the moans and sighs from those below 
brought tears to the eyes of the most stony- 
hearted. There in that terrible rampage were 
brothers, sisters, wives and husbands, and from 
the mountain could be seen the panic-stricken 
marks in the faces of those who were struggling 
between life and death. I really am unable to do 
justice to the scene, and its details are almost 
beyond my power to relate. Then came the burn- 
ing of the debris near the Pennsylvania Railroad 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. t r j 

"brldofe. The scene was too sickeninof to endure. 
We left the spot and journeyed across country 
and dehvered many notes, letters, etc., that were 
intrusted to us. 

The gallant young engineer, John G. Parke, 
whose ride of warning has already been described, 
relates the followino^ : 

"On Thursday night I noticed that the dam 
was in good order and the water was nearly seven 
feet from the top. When the water is at this 
height the lake is then nearly three miles in length. 
It rained hard on Thursday night and I rode up 
to the end of the lake on the eventful day and 
saw that the woods around there was teeming with 
a seethine cauldron of water. Colonel Uncrer, the 
president of the fishing club that owns the 
property, put twenty-five Italians to work to fix 
the dam. A farmer in the vicinity also lent a 
willing hand. To strengthen the dam a plow 
was run along the top of it, and earth was then 
thrown into the furrows. On the west side a 
channel was dug and a sluice was constructed. 
We cut through about four feet of shale rock, 
when we came to solid rock which was impossible 
to cut without blasting. Once we got the channel 
open the water leaped down to the bed-rock, and 
a stream fully twenty feet wide and three feet 
deep rushed out on that end of the dam, while 
great quantities of water were coming in by the 



J r 2 "^HE yOHNSTO WN FL OD. 

pier at the other end. And then in the face of this 
great escape of water from the dam, it kept rising 
at the rate often inches an hour. 

" At noon I fully beheved that it was practically 
impossible to save the dam, and I got on a horse 
and galloped down to South Fork, and gave the 
alarm, telling the people at the same time of their 
danger, and advising them to get to a place of 
safety. I also sent a couple of men to the tele- 
graph tower, two miles away, to send messages 
to Johnstown and Cambria and to the other 
points on the way. The young girl at the instru- 
ment fainted when the news reached her, and 
was carried away^ Then, by the timely warning 
given, the people at South Fork had an opportu- 
nity to move their household goods and betake 
themselves to a place of safety. Only one per- 
son was drowned in that place, and he was trying 
to save an old washtub that was floating down- 
stream. 

" It was noon when the messages were sent 
out, so that the people of Johnstown had just 
three hours to fly to a place of safety. Why 
they did not heed the warning will never be told. 
I then remounted my horse and rode to the dam, 
expecting at every moment to meet the lake 
rushing down the mountain-side, but when I 
reached there I found the dam still intact, although 
the water had then reached the top of it. At one 
p. M. I walked over the dam, and then the water 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. j r ^ 

was about three inches on it, and was gradually 
gnawing away its face. As the stream leaped 
down the outer face, the water was rapidly wearing 
down the edge of the embankment, and I 
knew that it was a question of but a few hours. 
From my knowledge I should say there was fully 
ten million tons of water in the lake at one 
o'clock, while the pressure was largely increased 
by the swollen streams that flowed into it, but 
even then the dam could have stood it if the level 
of the water had been kept below the top. But, 
coupled with this, there was the constantly trick- 
ling of the water over the sides, which was slowly 
but surely wearing the banks away. 

"The big break took place at just three o'clock, 
and it was about ten feet wide at first and shallow ; 
but when the opening was made the fearful rush- 
ing waters opened the gap with such increasing 
rapidity that soon after the entire lake leaped out 
and started on its fearful march of death down 
the Valley of the Conemaugh. It took but forty 
minutes to drain that three miles of water, and the 
downpour of millions of tons of water was irre- 
sistible. The big boulders and great rafters and 
logs that were in the bed of the river were picked 
up, like so much chaff, and carried down the tor- 
rent for miles. Trees that stood fully seventy- 
five feet in height and four feet through were 
snapped off like pipe-stems." 



CHAPTER XII. 

ONE of the most thrilling incidents of the dis- 
aster was the performance of A. J. Leon- 
ard, whose family reside in Morrellville. He was 
at work, and hearing that his house had been 
swept away, determined at all hazards to ascertain 
the fate of his family. The bridges having been 
carried away, he constructed a temporary raft, and 
clinging to it as close as a cat to the side of a 
fence, he pushed his frail craft out in the raging 
torrent and started on a chase which, to all who 
were watchinof, seemed to mean an embrace in 
death. 

Heedless of cries " For God's sake, go back, 
you will be drowned," and " Don't attempt it," 
he persevered. As the raft struck the current he 
threw off his coat and in his shirt sleeves braved 
the stream. Down plunged the boards and down 
went Leonard, but as it rose he was seen still 
clinging. A mighty shout arose from the throats 
of the hundreds on the banks, who were now 
154 



THE y OHNS TO WN FLOOD. I r e 

deeply interested, earnestly hoping he would suc- 
cessfully ford the stream. 

Down again went' his bark, but nothing, it 
seemed, could shake Leonard off. The craft shot 
up in the air apparently ten or twelve feet, and 
Leonard stuck to it tenaciously. Slowly but surely 
he worked his boat to the other side of the stream, 
and after what seemed an awful suspense he 
finally landed, amid ringing cheers of men, women, 
and children. 

The scenes at Heanemyer's planing-mill at 
Nineveh, where the dead bodies are lying, are 
never to be forgotten. The torn, bruised, and 
mutilated bodies of the victims are lying in a row 
on the floor of the planing-mill, which looks more 
like the field of Bull Run after that disastrous 
battle than a workshop. The majority of the 
bodies are nude, their clothing having been torn 
off. All along the river bits of clothing — a tiny 
shoe, a baby dress, a mother's evening wrapper, a 
father's coat — and, in fact, every article of wearing 
apparel imaginable, may be seen hanging to 
stumps of trees and scattered on the bank. 

One of the most pitiful sights of this terrible 
disaster came to notice when the body of a young 
lady was taken outof the Conemaugh River. The 
woman was apparently quite young, though her 
features were terribly disfigured. Nearly all the 
clothing excepting the shoes was torn off the 



rrg THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

body. The corpse was that of a mother, for, 
although cold in death, she clasped a young 
male babe, apparently not more than a year old, 
tighdy in her arms. The little one was huddled 
close up to the face of the mother, who, when she 
realized their terrible fate, had evidently raised it 
to her lips to imprint upon its lips the last kiss it 
was to receive in this world. The sight forced 
many a stout heart to shed tears. The limp 
bodies, with matted hair, some with holes in their 
heads, eyes knocked out, and all bespattered with 
blood were a ghastly spectacle. 

Mr. J. M. Fronheiser, one of the Superintend- 
ents in the Cambria Iron Works, lived on Main 
Street. His house was one of the first to go, and 
he himself, h'is wife, two daughters, son, and baby 
were thrown into the raging torrent. His wife 
and eldest daughter were lost. He, with the 
baby, reached a place of safety, and his ten-year- 
old boy and twelve-year-old girl floated near 
enough to be reached. He caught the little girl, 
but she cried : 

" Let me go, papa, and save brother; my leg is 
broken and my foot is caught below." 

When he told her he was determined to rescue * 
her, she exclaimed : . 

" Then, papa, get a sharp knife and cut my leg 
off, I can stand it." 

The little fellow cried to his father : " You can't 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. icy 

save me, papa. Both my feet are caught fast, and 
I can't hold out any longer. Please get a pistol 
and shoot me.'' 

Captain Gageby, of the army, and some neigh- 
bors helped to rescue both children. The girl dis- 
played Spartan fortitude and pluck. All night long 
she lay in a bed without a mattress or medical atten- 
tion in a garret, the water reaching to the floor 
below, without a murmur or a whimper. In the 
morning she was carried down-stairs, her leg 
dangling under her, but when she saw her father 
at the foot of the stairs, she whispered to Captain 
Gageby : 

" Poor papa; he is so sad.'' Then, turning to 
her father, she threw a kiss with her hands and 
laughingly said, " Good morning, papa ; I'm all 
right." 

The Pennsylvania Railroad Company's opera- 
tors at Switch Corner, " S. O.," which is near 
Sang Hollow, tell thrilling stories of the scenes 
witnessed by them on Friday afternoon and even- 
ingf. Said one of them : 

" In order to give you an idea of how the tidal 
wave rose and fell, let me say that I kept a meas- 
ure and timed the rise and fall of the water, and 
in forty-eight minutes it fell four and a half 
feet. 

" I believe that when the water goes down about 
seventy-five children and fifty grown persons will 



J eg THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

be found amonpf the weeds and bushes in the bend 
of the river just below the tower. 

" There the current was very strong, and we 
saw dozens of people swept under the trees, and 
I don't believe that more than one in twenty came 
out on the other side." 

"They found a little girl in white just now," said 
one of the other operators. 

"O God!" said the chief operator. "She isn't 
dead, is she ?" 

"Yes; they found her in a clump of willow 
bushes, kneeling on a board, just about the way 
we saw her when she went down the river." Turn- 
inof to me he said : 

*' That was the saddest thing we saw all day 
yesterday. Two men came down on a little raft, 
with a little girl kneeling between them, and her 
hands raised and praying. She came so close to 
us we could see her face and that she was crying. 
She had on a white dress and looked like a little 
angel. She went under that cursed shoot in the 
willow bushes at the bend like all the rest, but we 
did hope she would get through alive." 

" And so she was still kneeling?" he said to his 
companion, who had brought the unwelcome 
news. 

" She sat there," was the reply, " as if she was 
still praying, and there was a smile on her poor 
little face, though her mouth was full of mud." 



THE J OIINS TOWN FLOOD. j r g 

Driving through the mountains a correspondent 
picked up a ragged little chap not much more than 
big enough to walk. From his clothing he was 
evidently a refugee. 

*' Where are your folks ?" he was asked. 

"We're living at Aunty's now." 

" Did you all get out ?" 

*' Oh ! we're all right — that is, all except two of 
sister's babies. Mother and little sister wasn't 
home, and they got out all right." 

" Where were you ?" 

" Oh ! I was at sister's house. We was all in 
the water and fire. Sister's man — her husband, 
you know — took us up-stairs, and he punched a 
hole through the roof, and we all climbed out and 
got saved." 

" How about the babies ?" 

*' Oh ! sister was carrying two of them in her 
arms, and the bureau hit her and knocked them 
out, so they went down." 

The child had unconsciously caught one of the 
oddest and most significant tricks of speech that 
have arisen from the calamity. Nobody here 
speaks of a person's having been drowned, or 
killed, or lost, or uses any other of the general 
expressions for sudden death. They have simply 
" gone down." Everybody here seems to avoid 
harsh words in referring to the possible affliction 
of another. £uphonistic phrases are substituted 



j5o ^^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

for plain questions. Two old friends met for the 
first time since the disaster. 

'' I'm glad to see you," exclaimed the first. " Are 
you all right?" 

" Yes, I'm doing first rate," was the reply. 

The first friend looked awkwardly about a mo- 
ment, and then asked with suppressed eagerness: 

"And — and your family — are they all — well?" 

There was a world of significance in the hesi- 
tation before the last word. 

"Yes. Thank God! not one of them went 
down." 

A man who looked like a prosperous banker, 
and who had evidently come from a distance 
drove through the mountains toward South Fork. 
On the way he met a handsome young man in a 
silk hat, mounted on a mule. The two shook 
hands eagerly. 

" Have you anything ?" 

" Nothing. W'hat have you ?" 

" Nothing." 

The younger man turned about and the two 
rode on silently through the forest road. Inquiry 
later developed the fact that the banker-looking 
man was really a banker whose daughter had been 
lost from one of the overwhelmed trains. The 
young man was his son. Both had been search- 
ing for some clue to the young woman's fate. 



CHAPTER XIIL 

IT was not "good morning '' in Johnstown nor 
" good night " that passed as a salutation be- 
tween neighbors who meet for the first time since 
thedeluge, but " How many of your folks gone ?" It 
is always " folks," always " gone.'' You heard it 
everywhere among the crowds that thronged the 
viaduct and looked down upon the ghastly twenty 
acres of unburied dead, from which dynamite was 
making a terrible exhumation of the corpses of 
two thousand mortals and five hundred houses. 
You heard it at the rope bridge, where the crowds 
waited the passage of the incessant file of empty 
cofiins. You heard it upon the steep hillside 
beyond the valley of devastation, where the citi- 
zens of Johnstown had fled into the borough of 
Conemaueh for shelter. You heard it ao;ain, the 
first salutation, whenever a friend, who had been 
searching for /^/i' dead, met a neighbor: "Are any 
of your friends gone ?'' 

It was not said in tears or even seemingly in 
ms.dness. It had simply come to be the "how- 

i6i 



J g 2 THE yOIJASTO IPN FL OD. 

d'ye-do" of the eleven thousand people who sur- 
vived the twenty-nine thousand five hundred peo- 
ple of the valley of the Conemaugh. 

Still finding bodies by scores in the debris ; still 
burying the dead and caring for the wounded ; 
still feeding the famishing and housing the home- 
less, was the record for days following the one on 
which Johnstown was swept away. A perfect 
stream of wagons bearing the dead as fast as they 
were discovered was constantly filing to the various 
improvised morgues where the bodies were'taken 
for identification. Hundreds of people were con- 
stantly crowding to these temporary houses, one 
of which was located in each of the suburban 
boroughs that surround Johnstown. Men armed 
with muskets, uniformed sentinels, constituting the 
force that guarded the city while it was practically 
under martial law, stood at the doors and admitted 
the crowd by tens. 

In the central dead-house in Johnstown proper 
there lay two rows of ghastly dead. To the right 
were twenty bodies that had been identified. 
They were mostly women and children, and they 
were entirely covered with white sheets, and a 
piece of paper bearing the name was pinned at 
the feet. To the left were eighteen bodies of the 
unknown dead. As the people passed they were 
hurried along by an attendant and gazed at the 
uncovered faces seeking to identify them. All 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. l5r 

applicants for admission, if it was thought they 
were prompted by idle curiosity, were not allowed 
to enter. The central morgue was formerly a 
school-house, and the desks were used as biers 
for the dead bodies. Three of the former pupils 
lay on the desks dead, with white pieces of paper 
pinned on the white sheets that covered them, 
giving their names. 

But what touching scenes are enacted every 
hour about this mournful building ! Outside the 
sharp voices of the sentinels are constantly shout- 
ing : " Move on." Inside weeping women and 
sad-faced, hollow-eyed men are bending over 
loved and familiar faces. Back on the steep grassy 
hill which rises abruptly on the other side of the 
street are crowds of curious people who have 
come in from the country r4)und about to look at the 
wreckage strewn around where Johnstown was. 

" Oh ! Mr. Jones," a pale-faced woman asks, 
walking up, sobbing, " can't you tell me where we 
can get a coffin to bury Johnnie's body?" 

" Do you know," asks a tottering old man, as 
the pale-faced woman turns away, " whether they 
have found Jennie and the children ?" 

"Jennie's body has just been found at the 
bridee," is the answer, " but the children can't be 
found." 

Jennie is the old man's widowed daughter, and 
was drowned, with her two children, while her 

10 



J 56 ' THE yOHNSTOWA' FLOOD. 

husband was at work over at the Cambria 
Mills. 

Just a few doors below the school-house morgue 
is the central office of the " Registry Bureau." 
This was organized by Dr. Buchanan and H. G. 
Connaugh, for the purpose of having a registry 
made of all those who had escaped. They real- 
ized that it would be impossible to secure a com- 
plete list of dead, and that the only practicable 
thing was to get a complete list of the living. 
Then they would get all the Johnstown names, 
and by that means secure a list of the dead. 
That estimate will be based on figures secured by 
the subtraction of the total registry saved from 
total population of Johnstown and surrounding 
boroughs. 

*T have been around ^trying to find my sister- 
^n-law, Mrs. Laura R. Jones, who is lost," said 
David L. Rogers. 

"How do you know she is lost?" he was 
asked. 

"Because I can't find her." 

When persons can't be found it is taken as 
conclusive evidence that they have been drowned. 
It is believed that the flood has buried -a great 
many people below the bridge in the ground lying 
just below the Cambria Works. Here the rush of 
waters covered the railroad tracks ten feet deep 
with a coating of stones. Whether they will 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ■ jg- 

ever be dug for remains to be seen. Meantime, 
those who are easier to reach will be hunted for. 
There are many corpses in the area of rubbish 
that drifted down and lodo^ed ao-ainst the stone 
bridge of the Pennsylvania Railroad. Out of this 
rubbish one thousand bodies have already been 
taken. The fire that was started by the driftwood 
touchinof ao-ainst the burnino- Catholic Church as 
it floated down was still burningf. 

Walk almost anywhere through the devastated 
district and you will hear expressions like this : 
" Why, you see that pile of wreckage there. 
There are three bodies buried beneath that pile. 
I know them, for I lived next door. They are 
Mrs. Charles E. Kast and her daughter, who kept 
a tavern, and her bartender, C. S. Noble." 

Henry Rogers, of Pittsburg, Is here caring for 
hts relatives. " I am scarcely in a condition to talk," 
he says. " The awful scenes I have just witnessed 
and the troubles of my relatives have almost un- 
nerved me. My poor aunt, Mrs. William Slick, 
is now a ravinof maniac. Her husband was form- 
erly the County Surveyor. He felt that the 
warning about the dam should not be disregarded. 
Accordingly he made preparations to go to a 
place of safety. His wife was just recovering 
from an Illness, but he had to take her on horse- 
back, and there was no time to get a carriage. 
They escaped, but all their property was wjashed 



jgg THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

away. Mrs. Slick for a time talked cheerfully 
enough, and said they should be thankful they had 
escaped with their lives. But on Sunday it was 
noticed that she was acting strangely. By night 
she was insane, I suppose the news that some 
relatives had perished was what turned her mind. 
I am much afraid that Mrs. Slick is not the only 
one in Johnstown v/hose reason has been de- 
throned by the calamity. I have talked with many 
citizens, and they certainly seem crazy to me. 
When the excitement passes off I suppose they 
will regain their reason. The escape of my uncle, 
George R. Slick, and his wife, I think was really 
providential. They, too, had determined to heed 
the warning that the dam was unsafe. When the 
flood came they had a carriage waiting at the 
front door. Just as they were entering it, the 
water came. How it was, my aunt cannot tell me, 
but they both managed to catch on to some debris, 
and were thus floated along. My aunt says she 
has an indistinct recollection of some one havingf 
helped her upon the roof of a house. The person 
who did her this service was lost. All night they 
floated along on the. roof. They suffered greatly 
from exposure, as the weather was extremely 
chilly. Next morning they were fortunately 
landed safely. My uncle, however, is now lying 
at the point of death. I have noticed a singular 
coincidence here. Down in the lower end of the 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. j gg. 

city Stood the United Presbyterian parsonage. 
The waters carried it two miles and a half, and 
landed it in Sandy Vale Cemetery. Strange as it 
may seem, the sexton's house in the cemetery was 
swept away and landed near the foundations of 
the parsonage. I have seen this myself, and it is 
commented on by many others." 

In one place the roofs of forty frame houses 
were packed in together just as you would place 
forty bended cards one on top of another. The 
iron rods of a bridge were twisted into a perfect 
spiral six times around one of the girders. Just 
beneath it was a woman's trunk, broken up and 
half filled with sand, with silk dresses and a veil 
streaming out of it. From under the trunk men 
were lifting the body of its owner, perhaps, so 
burned, so horribly mutilated, so torn limb from 
limb that even the workmen, who have seen so 
many of these frightful sights that they have 
begun to get used to them, turned away sick at 
heart. In one place was a wrecked grocery store 
— bins of coffee and tea, flour, spices and nuts, 
partsofthe counter and the safe mingled together. 
Near it was the pantry of a house, still partly 
Intact, the plates and saucers regularly piled up, a 
waiter and a teapot, but not a sign of the wood- 
work, not a recognizable outline of a house. 

In another place was a human foot, and crumb- 
ling Indications of a boot, but no signs of a body. 



' J H Q THE yOHNS ro WN FL O OD. 

A hay-rick, half ashes, stood near the centre of 
the gorge. Workmen who dug about it to-day 
found a chicken coop, and in it two chickens, not 
only alive but clucking happily when they were 
released. A woman's hat, half burned ; a reticule, 
with part of a hand still clinging to it; two shoes 
and part of a dress told the story of one unfor- 
tunate's death. Close at hand a commercial 
traveler had perished. There was his broken 
valise, still full of samples, fragments of his shoes, 
and some pieces of his clothing. 

Scenes like these were occurrino- all over the 
charred field where men were working with pick 
and axe and lifting out the poor, shattered re- 
mains of human beings, nearly alv/ays past recog- 
nition or identification, except by guess-work, or 
the locality where they were found. Articles of 
domestic use scattered through the rubbish helped 
to tell who some of the bodies were. Part of a 
set of dinner plates told one man where in the 
intangible mass his house was. In one place was 
a photograph album with one picture still recog- 
nizable. From this the body of a child near by 
was identified. A man who had spent a day and 
all night looking for the body of his wife, was 
directed to her remains by part of a trunk lid. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

The language of pathos is too weak to de- 
scribe the scenes where the livingf were search- 
inpf for tlieir loved and lost ones amonof the dead. 

"That's Emma," said an old man before one 
of the bodies. He said it as coolly as though he 
spoke of his daughter in life, not In death, and as 
if it were not the fifth dead child of his that he 
had identified. 

"Is that you, Mrs. James," said one woman to 
another on the foot-bridge over Stony Creek. 

"Yes, it is, and we are all well," said Mrs. 
James. 

"Oh, have you heard from Mrs. Fen ton ? " 

"She's left," said the first woman, "but Mr. 
Fenton and the children are gone." 

The scenes at the different relief agencies, 
where food, clothing, and provisions were given 
out on the order of the Citizens Committee, were 
extremely interesting. These were established 

" (X7T) 



J ^, ^ THE JO HNS TO WN FL O OD. 

at the Pennsylvania Railroad depot, at Peter's 
Hotel, in Adams Street, and in each of the 
suburbs. 

At the depot, where there was a large force of 
police, the people were kept in files, and the 
relief articles were given out with some regu- 
larity, but at such a place as Kernsville, in the 
suburbs, the relief station was in the upper story 
of a partly wrecked house. 

The yard was filled with boxes and barrels of 
bread, crackers, biscuit, and bales of blankets. 
The people crowded outside the yard in the 
street, and the provisions were handed to them 
over the fence, while the clothing was thrown to 
them from the upper windows. There was ap- 
parently great destitution in Kernsville. 

'T don't care what It is, only so long as it will 
keep me warm," said one woman, whose ragged 
clothing was still damp. 

The stronger women pushed to the front of the 
fence and tried to grab the best pieces of clothing 
which came from the windows, but the people in 
the house saw the game and tossed the clothing 
to those in the rear of the crowd. A man stood 
on a barrel of flour and yelled out what each 
piece of clothing Vv-as as It came down. 

At each yell there was a universal cry of 
" That's just what I want. My boy Is dying; he 
must have that. Throw me that for my poor 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



173 



wife," and the likes of that. Finally the clothing 
was all gone, and there were some people who 
didn't get any. They went away bewailing their 
misfortune. 

A reporter was piloted to Kernsville by Keb 
log, a man who had lost his wife and baby in the 
flood. 

"She stood right thar, sir," said the man, 
pointing to a house whose roof and front were 
gone. "She climbed up thar when the water 
came first and almost smashed the house. She 
had the baby in her arms. Then another house 
came down and dashed against ours, and my 
wife went down with the baby raised above her 
head. I saw it all from a tree thar. I couldn't 
move a step to help 'em." 

Coming back, the same reporter met a man 
whose face was radiant. He fairly beamed good 
nature and kindness. 

"You look happy," said the reporter. 

" Yes, sir; I've found my boy," said the man, 

"Is your house gone ? " asked the reporter. 

" Oh, of course," answered the man. " I've 
lost all I've got except my little boy," and he went 
on his way rejoicing. 

A wealthy young Philadelphian named Ogle had 
become engaged to a Johnstown lady. Miss Carrie 
DIehl. They were to be wedded in the middle 
of June, and were preparing for the ceremony. 



174 



TME JOHNSTOWN FLO OB. 



The lover heard of the terrible flood, but, know- 
ing that the residence of his dear one was up in 
the hills, felt little fear for her safety. To make 
sure, however, he started for Johnstown, Near 
the Fourth Street moro-ue he met Mr. Diehl. 

" Thank God ! you are safe," he exclaimed, and 
then added : "Is Carrie well ? " 

"She was visiting in the valley when the wave 
came," was the mournful reply. Then he beck- 
oned the young man to enter the chamber of 
death. 

A moment later Mr. Oele was kneelingf beside 
the rough bier and was kissing the cold, white 
face. From the lifeless finger he slipped a ring 
and in its place put one of his own. Then he 
stole quietly out. 

" Mamma ! mamma ! " cried a child. She had 
recognized a body that no one else could, and in a 
moment the corpse was ticketed, boxed, and de- 
livered to laborers, who bore it away to join the 
long funeral procession. 

A mother recognized a baby boy. " Keep it a 
few minutes," she asked the undertaker in charge. 
In a few moments she returned, carrying in her 
arms a little white casket. Then she hired two 
men to bear it to a cemetery. No hearses were 
seen in Johnstown. Relatives recognized their 
dead, secured the coffins, got them carried the 
best way they could to the morgues, then to the 



THE JOtlNSTO WN FLOOD. j 7 r 

graveyards. A prayer, some tears, and a few 
more of the dead thousands were buried in 
mother earth, 

A frequent visitor at these horrible places was 
David John Lewis. All over Johnstown he rode 
a powerful gray horse, and to each one he met 
whom he knew he exclaimed : " Have you seen 
my sisters ? " Hardly waiting for a reply, he gal- 
loped away, either to seek Ingress into a morgue 
or to ride alongf the river banks. One week be- 
fore Mr. Lewis was worth ^60,000, his all being 
invested In a lar^e commission business. After 
the flood he owned the horse he rode, the clothes 
on his back, and that was all. In the fierce wave 
were buried five of his near relatives, sons, and 
his sisters Anna, Louise, and Maggie. The lat- 
ter was married, and her little boy and babe were 
also drowned. They were all dearly loved by the 
merchant, who, crazed with grief and mounted on 
his horse, was a conspicuous . figure In the ruined 
city. 

. William Gaffney, an Insurance agent, had a 
very pitiful duty to perform. On his father's and 
wife's side he lost fourteen relatives, among them 
his wife and family. He had a man to take the 
bodies to the grave, and he himself dug graves for 
his wife and children, and burled them. In speak- 
ing of the matter he said : " I never thought that 
I could perform, such a sad dutv. but I had to do 



iy5 ^-^-^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

it, awd I did it. No, one has any idea of the feel- 
ings of a man who acts as undertaker, grave-dig- 
ger, and pall-bearer for his own family." 

The saddest sioht on the river bank was Mr. 
Gilmore, who lost his wife and family of five chil- 
dren. Ever since the calamity this old man was 
seen on the river bank looking for his family. He 
insisted on the firemen playing a stream of water 
on the place where the house formerly stood, and 
where he supposed the bodies lay. The firemen, 
recognizing his feelings, played the stream on the 
place, at Intervals, for several hours, and at last 
the rescuers got to the spot where the old man 
said his house formerly stood. " I know the 
bodies are there, and you must find them." When 
at last one of the men picked up a charred skull, 
evidently that of a child, the old man exclaimed : 
" That is my child. There lies my family ; go on 
and get the rest of them." The workmen con- 
tinued, and in a few minutes they came to the re- 
mains of the mother and three other children. 
There was only enough of their clothing left to 
recognize them by. / 

On the floor of William- Mancarro's house, 
groaning with pain and grief, lay Patrick Mad- 
den, a furnaceman of the Cambria Iron Company. 
He told of his terrible experience in a voice 
broken with emotion. He said : " When the 
Cambria Iron Company's bridge gave way I was 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



177 



in the house of a neighbor, Edward Garvey. We 
were caught through our own neglect, hke a great 
many others, and a few minutes before the houses 
were struck Garvey remarked that he was a good 
swimmer, and could get away no matter how high 
the water rose. Ten minutes later I saw him 
and his son-in-law drowned. 

" No human being could swim in that terrible 
torrent of debris. After the South Fork Reser- 
voir broke I was flung out of the building, and 
saw, when I rose to the surface of the water, my 
wife hanging upon a piece of scantling. She let 
it go and was drowned almost within reach of my 
arm, and I could not help or save her. I caught a 
log and floated with it five or six miles, but it was 
knocked from under me when I went over the 
dam. I then caught a bale of hay and was taken 
out by Mr. Morenrow. 

"My wife is certainly drowned, and six chil- 
dren. Four of them were : James Madden, twen- 
ty-three years old ; John, twenty-one years ; Kate, 
seventeen years ; and Mary, nineteen years. 

A spring wagon came slowly from the ruins of 
what was once Cambria. In it, on a board and 
covered by a muddy cloth, were the remains of 
Editor C. T. Schubert, of the Johnstown T^r^^ Press, 
German. Behind the wagon walked his friend 
Benjamin Gribble. Editor Schubert was one of 
the most popular and well-known Germans in the 



jyg THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

city. He sent his three sons to Conemaugh Bor- 
ough on Thursday, and on Friday afternoon he 
and his wife and six other children called at Mr. 
Gribble's residence. They noticed the rise of the 
water, but not until the flood from the burst dam 
washed the city did they anticipate danger. All 
fled from the first to the second floor. Then, as 
th© water rose, they went to the attic, and Mr. 
Schubert hastily prepared a raft, upon which all 
embarked. Just as the raft reached the bridge, a 
heavy piece of timber swept the editor beneath the 
surface. The raft then glided through, and all 
the rest were rescued. Mr. Schubert's body was 
found beneath a pile of broken timbers. 

A pitiful sight was that of an old, gray-haired 
man named Norn. He was walking- around 
among the mass of debris, looking for his family. 
He had just sat down to eat his supper when the 
crash came, and the whole family, consisting of 
wife and eight children, were buried beneath the 
collapsed house. He was carried down the river 
to the railroad bridge on a plank. Just at the 
bridge a cross- tie struck him with such force that 
he was shot clear upon the pier, and was safe. 
But he is a mass of bruises and cuts from head to 
foot. He refused to go to the hospital until he 
found the bodies of his loved ones. 



CHAPTER XV. 

Five days after the disaster a bird's-eye view 
was taken of Johnstown from the top of a precipi- 
tous mountain which almost overhanp-s it. The 

o 

first thing that impresses the eye, wrote the observ- 
er, is the fact that the proportion of the town that 
remains uninjured Is much smaller than It seems to 
be from lower-down points of view. Besides the 
part of the town that Is utterly wiped out, there 
are two great swaths cut through that portion 
which from lower down seems almost uninjured. 
Beginning at Conemaugh, two miles above the 
railroad bridge, along the right side of the valley 
looking down, there Is a strip of an eighth by a 
quarter of a mile wide, which constituted the heart 
of a chain of continuous towns, and which was 
thickly built over for the whole distance, upon 
which now not a solitary building stands except 
the gutted walls of the Wood, Morrell & Co. gen- 
eral store in Johnstown, and of the Gautier wire 

(179) 



J go THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

mill and Wood vale flour mill at Woodvale. Ex- 
cept for these buildings, the whole two-mile strip 
is swept clean, not only of buildings, but of every- 
thing. It is a tract of mud, rocks, and such other 
miscellaneous debris as miofht iollow the workino-s 
of a huge hydraulic placer mining system in the 
gold regions. In Johnstown itself, besides the 
total destruction upon this strip, extending at the 
end to cover the whole lower end of the city, there 
is a swath branching off from the main strip above 
the general store and running straight to the 
bluff It is three blocks wide and makes a hu^e 
" Y," with the gap through which the flood came 
for the base and main strip and the swaths for 
branches. Between the branches there is a tri- 
angular block of buildings that are still standing, 
although most of them are damaged. At a point 
exactly opposite the corner where the branches of 
the "Y" meet, and distant from it by about fifty 
yards, is one of the freaks of the flood. The Bal- 
timore and Ohio Railroad station, a square, two- 
story brick building, with a little cupola at the 
apex of its slanting roof, is apparently uninjured, 
but really one corner is knocked in and the whole 
interior is a total wreck. How it stood when 
everything anywhere near it was swept away is a 
mystery. Above the "Y "-shaped tract of ruin 
there is another still wider swath, bending around 
in Stony Creek, save on the left, where the flood 



THE JOlJNSTGWiV hLOOD. j3^ 

surged when It was checked and thrown back by 
the raih'oad bridge. It swept thhigs clean before 
it throLiPfh Tohnstowii and made a track of ruin 
among the light frame houses for nearly two miles 
up the gap. The Roman. Catholic Church was 
just at its upper edge. It is still standing, and 
from its tower the bell strikes the hours regularly 
as before, although everybody now is noticing that 
it always sounds like a funeral. Nobody ever 
noticed it before, but from the upper side it can be 
seen that a huge hole has been knocked through 
the side of the buildinof. A train of cars could be 
run throueh it. Inside the church is filled with 
all sorts of rubbish and ruin. A little further on 
is another church, which curiously illustrates the 
manner in which fire and flood seemed determined 
to unite in completing the ruin of the city. Just 
before the flood came down the valley there was 
a terrific explosion in this church, supposed to 
have been caused by natural gas. Amid all the 
terrors of the flood, with the water surging thirty 
feet deep all around and through it, the flames 
blazed through the roof and tower, and its fire- 
stained walls arise from the debris of the flood, 
which covers its foundations. Its ruins are one 
of the most conspicuous and picturesque sights 
In the city. 

Next to Adams Street, the road most traveled 
in Johnstown now is the Pennsylvania Railroad 



jg^ THE JOHNSTOWN JLOOD. 

track, or rather bed, across the Stony Creek, and 
at a culvert crossing just west of the creek. More 
people have been injured here since the calamity 
than at any other place. The railroad ties which 
hold the track across the culvert are big ones, 
and their strength has not been weakened by the 
flood, but between the ties and between the 
freight and passenger tracks there is a wide 
space. The Pennsylvania trains from Johnstown 
have to stop, of course, at the eastern end of the 
bridge, and the thousands of people whom they 
daily bring to Johnstown from Pittsburgh have to 
get into Johnstown by walking across the track 
to the Pennsylvania Railroad depot, and then 
crossing the pontoon foot-bridge that has been 
built across the Stony Creek. All day long there 
is a black line of people going back and forth 
across this course. Every now and then there Is 
a yell, a plunge, a rush of people to the culvert, 
a call for a doctor, and cries of " Help " from un- 
derneath the culvert. Some one, of course, has 
fallen between the freight and passenger tracks, 
or between the ties of the tracks themselves. In 
the night It is particularly dangerous traveling to 
the Pennsylvania depot this way, and people fall- 
insf then have little chance of a rescue. So far at 
least thirty persons have fallen down the culvert, 
and a dozen of them, who have descended en- 
tirely to the ground, have escaped in some mar- 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL OD. ^ g r 

velous manner with their Hves. Several Pitts- 
burghers have had their legs and arms broken, 
and one man cracked his collar-bone. It is to be 
hoped that these accidents will keep off the flock 
of curiosity-seekers, in some degree at least. The 
presence of these crowds seriously interferes with 
the work of clearing up the town, and affects the 
residents here in even a graver manner, for 
though many of those coming to Johnstown to 
spend a day and see the ruins bring something 
to eat with them, many do not do so, and invade 
the relief stands, taking the food which is lavishly 
dealt out to the suffering. Though the Pennsyl- 
vania Railroad bridge is as strong as ever, appar- 
ently, beyond the bridge, the embankment on 
which the track is built is washed away, and peo- 
ple therefore do not cross the bridge, but leave 
the track on the western side, and, clambering 
down the abutments, cross the creek on a rude 
foot-bridge hastily erected, and then through the 
yard of the Open-Hearth Works and of the railroad 
up to the depot. This yard altogether is about 
three-quarters of a mile long, but so deceptive are 
distances in the valley that it does not look one- 
third that. The bed of this yard, three-quarters 
of a mile long, and about the same distance wide, 
is the most desolate place here. The yard itself 
is fringed with the crumbling ruins of the iron 
works and of the railroad shops. The iron works 



J 35 fHE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

were great, high brick buildings, with steep^ iron 
roofs. The ends of these buildings were smashed 
in, and the roofs bend over where the flood struck 
them, in a curve. 

But it is the bed of the yard itself that is deso- 
late. In appearance it is a mass of stones and 
rocks and huge boulders, so that it seems a vast 
quarry hewn and uncovered by the wind. There 
is comparatively little debris here, all this having 
been washed away over to the sides of the build- 
ings, in one or two instances filling the buildings 
completely. There is no soft earth or mud on 
the rocks at all, this part of Johnstown being 
much in contrast with the great stretch of sand 
along the river. In some instances the dirt is 
washed away to such a depth that the bed-rock is 
uncovered. 

The fury of the waters here may be gathered 
from this fact: piled up outside the works of the 
Open-Hearth Company w^ere several heaps of 
massive blooms — long, solid blocks of pig iron, 
weighing fifteen tons each. The blooms, though 
they were not carried down the river, were scat- 
tered about the yard like so many logs of wood. 
They will have to be piled up again by the use of 
a derrick. The Open-Hearth Iron Works people 
are makinof vio-orous efforts to clear their build- 
ings. The yards of the company were blazing 
last night with the burning debris, but it will 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. jgy 

be weeks before the company can start opera- 
tions. 

In the Pennsylvania Railroad yard all is activity 
and bustle. At the relief station, and at the head- 
quarters of General Hastings, in the signal tower, 
the man who is the head of all operations there, 
and the directing genius of the place, is Lieuten- 
ant George Miller, of the Fifth United States In- 
fantry. Lieutenant Miller was near here on his 
vacation when the flood came. He was one of 
the first on the spot, and was about the only man 
in Johnstown who showed some ability as an or- 
ganizer and a disciplinarian. A reporter who 
groped his way across the railroad track, the foot- 
bridge, and the quarries and yards at reveille 
found Lieutenant Miller in a group of the soldiers 
of the Fourteenth Pennsylvania Regiment telling 
them just what to do. 



CHArTER XVI. 

Travel was resumed up the valley of Cone- 
maugh Creek for a few miles about five days 
after the flood, and a weird sight was presented 
to the visitor. No pen can do justice to it, yet 
some impressions of it must be recorded. Every 
one has seen the light iron beams, shafts, and 
rods in a factory lying in twisted, broken, and 
criss-cross shape after a fire has destroyed the 
building. In the gap above Johnstown water has 
picked up a four-track railroad covered with 
trains, freight, and passengers, and with machine 
shops, a round-house, and other heavy buildings 
with heavy contents, and it has torn the track 
to pieces, twisted, turned, and crossed it as fire 
never could. It has tossed huge freight locomo- 
tives about like barrels, and cars like packing- 
boxes, torn them to pieces, and scattered them 
over miles of territory. It has in one place put 
a stream of deep water, a city block wide, be- 

(i88) _ 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. jgg 

tween the railroad and die bluff, and in anodier 
place it has changed the course of the river as 
far in the other direction and left a hundred 
yards inland the tracks that formerly skirted the 
banks. 

Add to this that in the midst of all this devas- 
tation, fire, with the singular fatality that has made 
it everywhere the companion of the flood in this 
catastrophe, has destroyed a train of vestibule 
cars that the flood had wrecked ; that the pas- 
senders who remained in the cars through the 
flood and until the fire were saved, while their 
companions who attempted to flee were over- 
whelmed and drowned ; and that through it all 
one locomotive stood and still stands compara- 
tively uninjured in the heart of this disaster, and 
the story of one of the most marvelous freaks 
of this marvelous flood is barely outlined. That 
locomotive stands there on Its track now with its 
fires burning, smoke curling from the stack, and 
steam from its safety valve, all ready to go ahead 
as soon as they will build a track down to it. It 
is No. 1309, a fifty-four ton, eight driver, class R, 
Pennsylvania Railroad locomotive. George Hud- 
son was its engineer, and Conductor Sheely had 
charge of its train. They, with all the rest of the 
crew, escaped by flight when they saw the flood. 

The wonders of this playground, where a giant 
force played with masses of iron, weighing scores 



iQO 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



of tons each, as a child might play with pebbles, 
begins with a bridge, or a piece of a bridge, 
about thirty feet long, that stands high" and dry 
upon two ordinary stone abutments at Woodvale. 
The part of the bridge that remains spanned the 
Pennsylvania tracks. The tracks are gone, the 
bridge is grone on either side, the river is ofone to 
a new channel, the very earth for a hundred yards 
around has been scraped off and swept away, but 
this little span remains perched up there, twenty 
feet above everything, in the midst of a desert of 
ruins — the only piece of a bridge that is standing 
from the railroad bridge to South Forks. It is a 
ligrht iron structure, and the abutments are not 
unusually heavy. That it should be kept there, 
when everything else was twisted and torn to 
pieces, is one other queer freak of this flood. 
Near by are the wrecks of two freight trains that 
were standing side by side when the flood caught 
them. The lower ends of both trains are torn to 
pieces, the cars tossed around in every direction, 
and many of them carried away. The whole of 
the train on the track nearest the river was 
smashed into kindling wood. Its locomotive is 
gone entirely, perhaps because this other train 
acted as a sort of buffer for the second one. The 
latter has twenty-five or thirty cars that are unin- 
jured, apparently. They could move off as soon 
as that wonderful engine, No, 1309, that stands 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. jgi 

with steam up at their head, gets ready to pull 
out. A second look, however, shows that the 
track is in many places literally washed from be- 
neath the cars. Some of the trucks also are 
turned half way around and standing with wheels 
running- across the track. But the force that did 
this left the light wood box cars themselves un- 
harmed. They were loaded with dressed beef 
and provisions. They have been emptied to sup- 
ply the hungry in Johnstown, 

In front of engine 1309 and this train the 
water played one of its most fantastic tricks with 
the rails. The debris of trees, logs, planks, and 
every description of wreckage is heaped up in 
front of the engine to the headlight, and is packed 
in so tightly that twenty men with ropes and axes 
worked all day without clearing all away. The 
track is absolutely gone from the front of the en- 
gine clear up to beyond Conemaugh. Parts of 
it lie about everywhere, twisted into odd shapes, 
turned upside down, stacked crosswise one above 
the other, and in one place a section of the west 
track has been lifted clear over the right track, 
runs along there for a ways, and then twists back 
into its proper place. Even stranger are the 
tricks the water has played with the rails where 
they have been torn loose from the ties. The 
rails are steel and of the heaviest weight used. 
They were twisted as easily as willow branches in 



jg2 FHE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

a spring freshet in a country brook. One rail 
lies in the sand in the shape of a letter " S." 
More are broken squarely in two. Many times 
rails have been broken within a few feet of a fish- 
plate, coupling them to the next rail, and the 
fragments are still united by the comparatively 
weak plates. Every natural law would seem to 
show that the first place where they should have 
broken was at the joints. 

There is little to indicate the recent presence 
of a railroad in the stretch from this spot up to 
the upper part of Conemaugh. The little plain 
into which the gap widened here, and in which 
stood the bulk of the town, is wiped out. The 
river has changed its course from one side of the 
valley to the other. There is not the slightest 
indication that the central part of the plain was 
ever anything but a flood-washed gulch in some 
mountain region. At the upper end of the plain, 
surrounded by a desert of mud and rock, stands a 
fantastic collection of ruined railroad equipments. 
Three trains stood there when the flood swept down 
the valley. On the outside was a local passenger 
train with three cars and a locomotive. It stands 
there yet, the cars tilted by the washing of the 
tracks, but comparatively uninjured. Somehow 
a couple more locomotives have been run into 
the sand bank. In the centre a freight train 
stood on the track, and a large collection of 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



193 



smashed cars has its place now. It was broken 
all to pieces. Inside of all was the day express, 
with its baggage and express cars, and at the end 
three vestibule cars. It was from this train that 
a number of passengers — fifteen certainly, and no 
one knows how many more — were lost. When 
the alarm came most of the passengers fled for 
the high ground. Many reached it ; others hesi- 
tated on the way, tried to run back to the cars, 
and were lost. Odiers stayed on the cars, and, 
after the first rush of the flood, were rescued alive. 
Some of the freight cars were loaded with lime, 
and this leaped over the vestibule cars and set 
them on fire. All three of the vestibule cars 
were burned down to the trucks. These and the 
peculiar-shaped iron frames of the vestibules are 
all that show where the cars stood. 

The reason the flood, that twisted heavy steel 
rails like twigs just below, did not wipe out these 
three trains entirely is supposed to be that just in 
front of them, and between them and the flood, 
was the round-house, filled with engines. It was 
a large building, probably forty feet high to the 
top of the ventilators in the roof. The wave of 
wrath, eye-witnesses say, was so high that these 
ventilators were beneath it. The round-house 
was swept away to its very foundations, and the 
flood played jackstraws with the two dozen loco- 
motives lodged in it, but it split the torrent, and 



194 



niE JOIINSTOIVN FLOOD. 



a part of it went down each side of the three 
trains, saving them from the worst of its force. 
Thirty-three locomotives were in and about the 
round-house and the repair shops near by. Of 
these, twenty-six have been found, or at least 
traced, part of them being found scattered down 
into Johnstown, and one tender was found up in 
Stony Creek, The other seven locomotives are 
gone, and not a trace of them has been found up 
to this time. It is supposed that some of them 
are in the sixty acres of debris above the bridge 
at Johnstown, All the locomotives that remain 
anywhere within sight of the round-house, all ex- 
cept those attached to the trains, are thrown about 
in every direction, every side up, smashed, broken, 
and useless except for old iron. The tenders are 
all gone. Being lighter than the locomotives, they 
floated easier, and were quickly torn off and 
carried away. The engines themselves were ap- 
parently rolled over and over in whichever direc- 
tion the current that had hold of them ran, and 
occasionally were picked up bodily and slammed 
down again, wheels up, or whichever way chanced 
to be most convenient to the flood. Most of them 
lie in five feet of sand and gravel, with only a part 
showing above the surface. Some are out in the 
bed of the river. 

A strange but very pleasant feature of the 
disaster in Conemaugh itself is the comparatively 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



195 



small loss of life. As the townspeople figure it 
out, there are only thirty-eight persons there 
positively known to have perished besides those 
on the train. This was partly because the build- 
ings in the centre of the valley were mostly stores 
and factories, and also because more heed ap- 
pears to have been paid to the warnings that 
came from up the valley. At noon the workmen 
in the shops were notified that there was danger, 
and that they had better go home. At one o'clock 
word was given that the dam was likely to go, 
and that everybody must get on high ground. 
Few remained in the central part of the valley 
when the high wave came through the gap. 

Dore never dreamed a weirder, ghastlier pic- 
ture than night in the Conemaugh Valley since 
the flood desolated it. Darkness falls early from 
the rain-dropping, gray sky that has palled the 
valley ever since it became a vast bier, a char- 
nel-house fifteen miles long. The smoke and 
steam from the placers of smouldering debris 
above the bridge aid to hasten the night. Few 
lights gleam out, except those of the scattered 
fires that still flicker fitfully in the mass of wreck- 
age. Gas went out with the flood, and oil has 
been almost entirely lacking since the disaster. 
Candles are used in those places where people 
think it worth while to stay up after dark. Up 
on the hills around the town bright sparks gleam 



jq5 the JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

out like lovely stars from the few homes built so 
high. Down in the valley the gloom settles over 
everything, making it look, from the bluffs around, 
like some vast death-pit, the idea of entering 
which brings a shudder. The gloomy effect is 
not relieved, but rather deepened, by the broad 
beams of ghastly, pale light thrown across the 
gulf by two or three electric lights erected around 
the Pennsylvania Railroad station. They dazzle 
the eye and make the gloom still deeper. 

Time does not accustom the eyes to this ghastly 
scene. The flames rising and falling over the 
ruins look more like witches' bale-fires the longer 
they are looked at. The smoke-burdened depths 
in the valley seem deserted by every living 
thing, except that occasionally, prowling ghoul- 
like about the edges of the mass of debris, may 
be seen, as they cross the beams of electric light, 
dark figures of men who are drawn to the spot 
day and night, hovering over the place where 
some chance movement may disclose the body of 
a wife, mother, or daughter gone down in the 
wreck. They pick listlessly away at the heaps in 
one spot for awhile and then wander aimlessly ofT, 
only to reappear at another spot, pulling fever- 
ishly at some rags that looked like a dress, or 
poking a stick into some hole to feel if there is 
anything soft at the bottom. At one or two places 
the electric lights show, with exaggerated and 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. jgy 

distorted shadows, firemen in big hats and long- 
rubber coats, standing upon the edge of the 
bridge, steadily holding the hose, from which two 
streams of water shoot far out over the mass, 
sparkle for a moment like silver in the pale light, 
and then drop downward into the blackness. 

For noise, there is heavy splashing of the Con- 
emaugh over the rapids below the bridge, the pet- 
ulant gasping of an unseen fire-engine, pumping 
water through the hose, and the even more rapid 
but greater puffing of the dynamo-engine that, 
mounted upon a flat car at one end of the bridge, 
furnishes electricity for the lights. There is little 
else heard. People who are yet about gather in 
little groups, and talk in low tones as they look 
over the dark, watchfire-beaconed gulf. Every- 
body in Johnstown looks over that gulf in every 
spare moment, day or night. Movement about 
is almost impossible, for the ways are only foot- 
paths about the bluffs, irregular and slippery. 
Every night people are badly hurt by falls over 
bluffs, through the bridge, or down banks. Lying 
about. under sheds in ruined buildings, and even 
in the open air, wherever one goes, are the forms, 
wrapped in blankets, of men who have no better 
place to sleep, resembling nothing so much as the 
corpses that men are seen always to be carrying 
about the streets in the daytime. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

One of the first to reach Johnstown from a 
distance was a New York World correspondent, 
who on Sunday wrote as follows : — 

" I walked late yesterday afternoon from New 
Florence to a place opposite Johnstown, a distance 
of four miles. I describe what I actually saw. All 
along the way bodies were seen lying on the river 
banks. In one place a woman was half buried in 
the mud, only a limb showing. In another was a 
mother with her babe clasped to her breast. 
Further along lay a husband and wife, their arms 
wound around each other's necks. Probably fifty 
bodies were seen on that one side of the river, 
and it must be remembered that here the current 
was the swiftest, and consequently fewer of the 
dead were landed among the bushes. On the 
opposite side bodies could also be seen, but they 
were all covered with mud. As I neared Johns- 
town the wreckage became erand in its massive 

(198) 




'f.;t<§.r$»'^ 




THE DEBRIS ABOVE THE PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD BRIDGE. 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 20I 

proportions. In order to show the force of the 
current I will say that three miles below Johns- 
town I saw a grand piano lying on the bank, and 
not a board or key was broken. It must have 
been lifted on the crest of the wave and laid 
gently on the bank. In another place were two 
large iron boilers. They had evidently been 
treated by the torrent much as the piano had 
been. 

" The scenes, as I neared Johnstown, were the 
most heart-rending that man was ever called to 
look upon. Probably three thousand people were 
scattered in groups along the Pennsylvania Rail- 
road track and every one of them had a relative 
lying dead either in the wreckage above, in the 
river below, or in the still burning furnace. Not 
a house that was left standing was in plumb. 
Hundreds of them were turned on their sides, and 
In some cases three or four stood one on top of 
the other. Two miles from Johnstown, on the 
opposite side of the river from where I walked, 
stood one-half of the water-works of the Cambria 
Iron Company, a structure that had been built of 
massive stone. It was filled with planks from 
houses, and a large abutment of wreckage was 
piled up fully fifty feet in front of it. A little above, 
on the same side, could be seen what was left of 
the'Cambria Iron Works, which was one of the 
finest plants in the world. Some of the walls are 



202 ^-^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

Still standing, It Is true, but not a vestige of the 
valuable machinery remains In sight. The two 
upper portions of the works were swept away 
almost entirely, and under the pieces of fallen 
Iron and wood could be seen the bodies of more 
than forty workmen. 

" At this point there is a bend In the river and 
the fiery furnace blazing for a quarter of a mile 
square above the stone bridge came into view. 

" ' My God ! ' screamed a woman who was has- 
tening up the track, ' can it be that any are In 
there ? ' 

" 'Yes ; over a thousand,' replied a man who 
had just come from the neighborhood, and It Is 
now learned that he estimated the number at one 
thousand too low. 

" The scenes of misery and suffering and agony 
and despair can hardly be chronicled. One man, 
a clerk named Woodruff, was reeling along in- 
toxicated. Suddenly, with a frantic shout, he 
threw himself over the bank Into the flood and 
would have been carried to his death had he not 
been caught by some persons below. 

" ' Let me die,' he exclaimed, when they res- 
cued him. ' My wife and children are gone ; I 
have no use for my life.' An hour later I saw 
Woodruff lying on the ground entirely overcome 
by liquor. Persons who knew him said that he 
had never tasted liquor before. 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. OQX 

" Probably fifty barrels of whisky were washed 
ashore just below Johnstown, and those men who 
had lost everything In this world sought solace In 
the fiery liquid. So It was that as early as six 
o'clock last night the shrieks and cries of women 
were Intermingled with drunkards' howls and 
curses. What was worse than anything, how- 
ever, was the fact that Incoming trains from Pitts- 
burgh brought hundreds of toughs, who joined 
with the Slavs and Bohemians in rifling the 
bodies, stealing furniture, insulting women, and 
endeavoring to assume control of any rescuing 
parties that tried to seek the bodies under the 
bushes and In the limbs of trees. There was 
no one in authority, no one to take command 
of even a citizens' posse could it have been or- 
ganized. A lawless mob seemed to control this 
narrow neck of land that was the only approach 
to the city of Johnstown. I saw persons take 
watches from dead men's jackets and brutally 
tear finger-rings from the hands of women. The 
ruffians also climbed Into the overturned houses 
and ransacked the rooms, taking whatever they 
thought valuable. No one dared check them in 
this work, and, consequently, the scene was not 
as riotous as it would have been if the toughs 
had not had sway. In fact, they became beastly 
drunk after a time and were seen lying around 
in a stupor. Unless the military is on hand 



204 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



early to-morrow there may be serious trouble, 
for each train pours loads of people of every 
description into the vicinity, and Slavs are flock- 
ing- like birds of prey from the surrounding 
country. 

" Here I will give the latest conservative esti- 
mate of the dead — it is between seven and eigkt 
thousand drowned and two thousand burned. The 
committee at Johnstown in their last bulletiFi 
placed the number of lives lost at eight thousand. 
In doing so they are figuring the inhabitants of 
their own city and the towns immediately adjoin- 
inof. But it must be remembered that the tidal 
wave swept ten miles through a populous district 
before it even reached the locality over which this 
committee has supervision. It devastated a tract 
the size and shape of Manhattan Island, Here are 
a few facts that will show the geographical outlines 
of the terrible disaster: The Hotel Hurlbut of 
Johnstown, a massive three-story building of one 
hundred rooms, has vanished. There were in it 
seventy-five guests at the time of the flood. Two 
only are now known to be alive. The Merchants' 
Hotel Is leveled. How many were inside It Is 
not known, but as yet no one has been seen who 
came from there or heard of an Inmate escaping. 
At the Conemaugh round-house forty-one loco- 
motives were swept down the stream, and be- 
fore they reached the stone bridge all the Iron 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



205 



&nd steel work had been torn from their boilers. 
It is almost impossible In this great catastrophe 
to go more into details, 

" I stood on the stone brido-e at six o'clock 
and looked into the seething mass of ruin below 
me. At one place the blackened body of a babe 
was seen ; In another, fourteen skulls could be 
counted. Further alone the bones became thick- 
er and thicker, undl at last at one place It seemed 
■ as if a concourse of people who had been at a 
ball or entertainment had been carried in a bunch 
and incinerated. At this time the smoke was 
still rising to the height of fifty feet, and It Is ex- 
pected that when It dies down the charred bodies 
will be seen dotting the entire mass. 

" A cable had been run last nloht from the end 
■of the stone bridge to the nearest point across — 
a distance of three hundred feet. Over this ca- 
ble was run a trolley, and a swing was fastened 
under it. A man went over, and he was the first 
' one who visited Johnstown since the awful dlsas- 
:ter. I followed him to-day. 

"I walked alono- the hillside and saw hundreds 
•of persons lying on the wet grass, wrapped in 
iblankets or quilts. It was growing cold and a 
misty rain had set In. Shelter was not to be had, 
and houses on the hillsides that had not been 
^wept away were literally packed from top to 
i)Ottom. The bare necessities of life were soon 



2o6 ^-^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

at a premium, and loaves of bread sold at fifty- 
cents. Fortunately, however, the relief train from 
Pittsburgh arrived at seven o'clock. Otherwise 
the horrors of starvation would have been added. 
All provisions, however, had to be carried over a 
rough, rocky road a distance of four miles (as I 
knew, who had been compelled to walk it), and 
in many cases they were seized by the toughs, 
and the people who were in need of food did 
not get it. 

"Rich and poor were served alike by this 
terrible disaster. I saw a girl standing in her 
bare feet on the river's bank, clad in a loose 
petticoat and with a shawl over her head. At 
first I thought she was an Italian woman, but her 
face showed that I was mistaken. She was the 
belle of the town — the daughter of a wealthy 
Johnstown banker — and this single petticoat and 
shawl were not only all that was left her, but all 
that was saved from the magnificent residence of 
her father. She had escaped to the hills not an 
instant too soon. 

"The solicitor of Johnstown, Mr. George Mar- 
tin, said to me to-day : — 

" ' All my money went away in the flood. My 
house is gone. So are all my clothes, but, thank 
God, my family are safe.' " 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

The first train that passed Nev/ Florence, bound 
east, was crowded with people from Pittsburgh 
and places along the line, who were going to the 
scene of the disaster with but little hope of finding 
their loved ones alive. It was a heart-rending 
sight. Not a dry eye was in the train. Mothers 
moaned for their children. Husbands paced the 
aisles and wrung their hands In mute agony. 
Fathers pressed their faces against the windows 
and endeavored to see something, they knew not 
what, that would tell them In a measure of the 
dreadful fate that their loved ones had met with. 
All alonof the rag-Ino- Conemaueh the train 
stopped, and bodies were taken on the express 
car, being carried by the villagers who were out 
along the banks. Oh, the horror and Infinite pity 
of it all ! What a journey has been' that of the 
last half hour ! Swollen corpses lay here and 
there In piles of cross-ties, or on the river banks 

along the tangled greenery. 

(207) 



2o8 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

It was about nine o'clock when the first pas- 
senger train since Friday came to the New Flor- 
ence depot with its load of eager passengers. 
They were no idle travelers, but each had a mis- 
sion. Here and there men were staring out the 
windows with red eyes. Among them were 
tough-looking Hungarians and Italians who had 
lost friends near Nineveh, while many were weep- 
ing, on all sides. Two of the passengers on the 
train were man and wife from Johnstown. He 
was dignified and more or less selfpossessed. 
She was anxious, and tried hard to control her 
feelings. From every newcomer and possible 
source of information she sought news. 

" Ours is a big, new brick house," said she with 
a brave effort, but with her brown eyes moist and 
red lips trembling. " It is a three-story house, and 
I don't think there is any trouble, do you ? " said 
she to me, and without waiting for my answer, 
she continued with a sob, "There are my four, 
children in the house and their nurse, and I guess 
father and mother will go over to the house, don't 
you t 

In a few moments all those in the car knew the 
story of the pair, and many a pitying glance was 
cast at them. Their house was one of the first to 
go. 

The huge wave struck Bolivar just after dark, 
and in five minutes the Conemaugh rose from six 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 209 

to forty feet, and the waters spread out over the 
whole country. Soon houses began floating 
down, and dinging to the debris were men, 
women, and children shrieking for aid, A large 
number of citizens gathered at the county bridge, 
and they were reinforced by a number from Gar- 
field, a town on the opposite side of the river. 
They brought ropes, and these were thrown over 
into the boiling waters as persons drifted by, in 
efforts to save them. For half an hour all efforts 
were fruitless, until at last, when the rescuers 
were about giving up all hope, a little boy astride 
a shingle roof managed to catch hold of one of the 
ropes. He caught it under his left arm and was 
thrown violently against an abutment, but man- 
aged to keep hold and was pulled onto the bridge 
amid the cheers of the onlookers. The lad was 
at once taken to Garfield and cared for. The boy 
is about sixteen years old and his name is Mess- 
ier. His story of the calamity is as follows : — 

" With my father I was spending the day at my 
grandfather's house in Cambria City. In the 
house at the time were Theodore, Edward, and 
John Kintz, John Kintz, Jr., Miss Mary Kintz, 
Mrs. Mary Kintz, wife of John Kintz, Jr. ; Miss 
Treacy Kintz, Mrs. Rica Smith, John Hirsch and 
four children, my father, and myself Shordy after 
five o'clock there was a noise of roaring waters 
and screams of people. We looked out the door 



21Q THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

and saw pe-rsons running. My father told us to 
never mind, as the waters would not rise further. 
But soon we saw houses swept by, and then we 
ran up to the floor above. The house was three 
stories, and we were at last forced to the top one. 
In ray fright I jumped on the bed. It was an old- 
fashioned one, with heavy posts. The water kept 
rising, and my bed was soon afloat. Gradually 
it was lifted up. The air in the room grew close, 
and the house was moving. Still the bed kept 
rising and pressed the ceiling. At last the posts 
pushed the plaster. It yielded, and a section of 
the roof gave way. Then I suddenly found my- 
self on the roof and was beingf carried down 
stream. After a little this roof commenced to 
part, and I was afraid I was going to be drowned, 
but just then another house with a shingle roof 
floated by, and I managed to crawl on it and 
floated clown until nearly dead with cold, when I 
was saved. After I was freed from the house I 
did not see my father. My grandfather was on a 
tree, but he must have been drowned, as the 
waters were rising fast. John Kintz, Jr., was also 
on a tree. Miss Mary Kintz and Mrs. Mary 
Kintz I saw drown. Miss Smith was also drowned. 
John Hirsch was in a tree, but the four children 
were drowned. The scenes were terrible. Live 
bodies and corpses were floating down with me 
and away from me. I would see a person shrieli; 



THE JOIINSTOWM FLOOD. ^11 

and then disappear. All along the line were peo- 
ple who were trying to save us, but they could do 
nothing, and only a few were caught." 

An eye-witness at Bolivar Block station tells a 
story of heroism which occurred at the lower 
bridge which crosses the Conemaugh at that point. 
A young man, with two women, were seen coming 
down the river on part of a floor. At the upper 
bridge a rope was thrown down to them. This 
they all failed to catch. Between the two bridges 
he was noticed to point toward the elder woman, 
who, it is supposed, was his mother. He was 
then seen to instruct the women how to catch the 
rope which was being lowered from the other 
bridge., Down came the raft with a rush. The 
brave man stood with his arms around the two 
women. As they swept under the bridge he 
reached up and seized the rope. He was jerked 
violently away from the two women, who failed to 
get a hold on the rope. Seeing that they would 
not be rescued, he dropped the rope and fell back 
on the raft, which floated on down the river. The 
current washed their frail craft in toward the 
bank. The young man was enabled to seize 
hold of a branch of a tree. He aided the two 
women to get up into the tree. He held on with 
his hands and rested his feet on a pile of drift- 
wood. A piece of floating debris struck the drift, 
sweeping it away. The man hung with his body 



2 I 2 ^-^^ JOHNS TO IVN FL CD. 

immersed in the water. A pile of drift soon col- 
lected, and he was enabled to get another inse- 
cure footing. Up the river there was a sudden 
crash, and a section of the bridge was swept away 
and floated down the stream, striking the tree and 
washing it away. All three were thrown into the 
water and were drowned before the eyes of the 
horrified spectators, just opposite the town of 
Bolivar. 

At Bolivar a man, woman, and child were' 
seen floating clown in a lot of drift. The mass', 
soon began to part, and, by desperate efforts, the- 
husband and father succeeded in getting his wife' 
and little one on a floating tree. Just then the 
tree was washed under the bridge, and a rope 
was thrown out. It fell upon the man's shoulders. 
He saw at a glance that he could not save his 
dear ones, so he threw the means of safety on 
one side and clasped in his arms those who were 
with him. A moment later and the tree struck a 
floating house. It turned over, and in an instant 
the three persons were in the seething waters, 
being carried to their death. 

An instance of a mother's love at Bolivar is 
told. A woman and two children were floatinof 
down the torrent. The mother caught a rope, 
and tried to hold it to her and her babe. It was 
impossible, and with a look of anguish she relin- 
quished the rope and sank with her little ones. 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



213 



A family, consisting of father and mother and 
nine children, were washed away in a creek at 
Lockport. The mother managed to reach the 
shore, but the husband and children were carried 
out into the Conemaugh to drown. The woman 
was crazed over the terrible event. 

A little girl passed under the Bolivar bridge 
just before dark. She was kneeling on part of a 
floor, and had her hands clasped as if in prayer. 
Every effort was made to save her, but they all 
proved futile. A railroader who was standing 
by remarked that the piteous appearance of the 
little waif brought tears to his eyes. All night 
long the crowd stood about the ruins of the bridge 
which had been swept away at Bolivar. The 
water rushed past with a roar, carrying with it 
parts of houses, furniture, and trees. No more 
living persons are being carried past. Watchers, 
with lanterns, remained along the banks until 
daybreak, when the first view of the awful devas- 
tation of the flood was witnessed. Alono- the 
bank lay the remnants of what had once been 
dwelling-houses and stores ; here and there was 
an uprooted tree. Piles of drift lay about, In 
some of w^hich bodies of the victims of the flood 
will be found. 

Harry Fisher, a young telegraph operator, who 
was at Bolivar when the first rush of waters be- 
gan, says: "We knew nothing of the disaster 



214 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



until we noticed the river slowly rising, and then 
more rapidly. News reached us from Johnstown 
that the dam at South Fork had burst. Within 
three hours the water in the river rose at least 
twenty feet. Shortly before six o'clock ruins of 
houses, beds, household utensils, barrels, and 
kegs came floating past the bridges. At eight 
o'clock the water was within six feet of the road- 
bed of the bridge. The wreckage floated past, 
without stopping, for at least two hours. Then it 
began to lessen, and night coming suddenly upon 
us, we could see no more. The wreckage was 
floating by for a long time before the first living 
persons passed. Fifteen people that I saw were 
carried down by the river. One of these, a boy, 
was saved, and three of them were drowned just 
directly below the town. Hundreds of animals 
lost their lives. The bodies of horses, dogs, and 
chickens floated past in numbers that could not 
be counted." 

Just before reaching Sang Hollow, the end of 
the mail line on the Pennsylvania Railroad, is 
" S. O." signal tower^ and the men in it told pit- 
eous stories of what they saw. 

A beautiful girl came down on the roof of a 
building, which was swung in near the tower. 
She screamed to the operators to save her, and 
one big, brawny, brave fellow walked as far into 
the river as he could, and shouted to her to guide 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



215 



herself Into shore with a bit of plank. She was a 
plucky girl, full of nerve and energy, and stood 
upon her frail support in evident obedience to the 
command of the operator. She made two or three 
bold strokes, and actually stopped the course of 
the raft for an instant. Then it swerved, and 
went out from under her. She tried to swim 
ashore, but in a few seconds she was lost in the 
swirling water. Something hit her, for she lay on 
her back, with face pallid and expressionless. 

Men and women, in dozens, in pairs, and sin- 
gly ; children, boys, big and little, and wee babies-, 
were there among the awful confusion of water, 
drowning, gasping, struggling, and fighting des- 
perately for life. Two men, on a tiny raft, shot 
Into the swiftest part of the current. They 
crouched stolidly, looking at the shores, while be- 
tween them, dressed In white, and kneeling with 
her face turned heavenward, was a girl six or 
seven years old. She seemed stricken with paral- 
ysis until she came opposite the tower, and then 
she turned her face to the operator. She was so 
close they could see big tears on her cheeks, and 
her pallor was as death. The helpless men on 
shore shouted to her to keep up her courage, and 
she resumed her devout attitude, and disappeared 
under the trees of a projecting point a short dis- 
tance below. "We couldn't see her come out 
again," said the operator, " and that was all of It." 



CHAPTER XIX. 

An interesting story of endeavor was related 
on Monday by a correspondent of the New York 
Sun, who made his way to the scene of disaster. 
This is what he wrote : — 

Akhough three days have passed since the 
disaster, the difficulty of reaching the desolated 
region is still so great that, under ordinary cir- 
cumstances, no one would dream of attempting 
the trip. The Pennsylvania Railroad cannot get 
within several miles of Johnstown, and it is al- 
most impossible to get on their trains even at 
that. They run one, two, or three trains a day on 
the time of the old through trains, and the few 
cars on each train are crowded with passengers 
in a few minutes after the gates open. Then 
the sale of tickets is stopped, the gates are closed, 
and all admission to the train denied. No extra 
cars will be put on, no second section sent out, 
and no special train run on any account, for love 

(216) 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 2 I Q 

or money. The scenes at the station when the 
gates are shut are sorrowful. Men who have 
come hundreds of miles to search for friends or 
relatives among the dead stand hopelessly before 
the edict of the blue-coated officials from eight in 
the morning until one in the afternoon. There is 
no later train on the Pennsylvania road out of 
Pittsburgh, and the agon}^ of suspense Is thus 
prolonged. Besides that, the one o'clock train Is 
so late in getting to Sang Hollow that the work 
of beginning a search is practically delayed until 
the next morning". 

The Sun s special correspondents were of a 
party of fifteen or twenty business men and others 
who had come from the East by way of Buffalo, 
and who reached Pittsburgh in abundant time to 
have taken the Pennsylvania Railroad train at 
eight o'clock, had the company wished to carry 
them. With hundreds of others they were turned 
away, and appeals even to the highest official of 
the road were useless, whether in the Interest of 
newspaper enterprise or private business, or in 
the sadder but most frequent case where men 
prayed like beggars for an opportunity to meas- 
ure the extent of their bereavement, or find if, by 
some happy chance, one might not be alive out 
of a family. The sight-seeing and curious crowd 
was on hand early, and had no trouble in getting 
on the train. Those who had come from distant 
13 



220 "^^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

cities, and whose mission was of business or sor- 
row, were generally later, and were left. No ef- 
*fort was made to increase the accommodations of 
the train for those who most needed them. The 
Sun s men had traveled a thousand miles around 
to reach Pittsburgh. Their journey had covered 
three sides of the State of Pennsylvania, from 
Philadelphia at the extreme southeast, through 
New Jersey and New York to Buffalo by way of 
Albany and the New York Central,, and thence 
by the Lake Shore to Ashtabula, O., passing 
through Erie at the extreme northwest corner of 
the State; thence down by the Pittsburgh and 
Lake Erie road to Youngstown, O., and so into 
Pittsburgh by the back door, as it were. Circum- 
stances and the edict of the Pennsylvania Rail- 
road were destined to carry them still further 
around, more than a hundred miles, nearly south 
of Pittsburgh, almost across the line into Mary- 
land, and thence fifty miles up before they reached 
their destination. 

The Baltimore and Ohio Railroad ordinarily 
does not attempt to compete for business from 
Pittsburgh into Johnstown. Its only route be- 
tween those two cities leads over small branch 
lines among the mountains south of Johnstown, 
and is over double the length of the Pennsyl- 
vania main line route. The first train to reach 
Johnstown, however, was one over the Baltimore 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 221 

and Ohio lines, and, although they made no at- 
tempt to establish a regular line, they did on Sun- 
day get two relief trains out of Pittsburgh and 
into Johnstown. Superintendent Patten, of the 
Baltimore and Ohio, established headquarters in 
a box car two miles south of Johnstown, and tele- 
graphed to Acting Superintendent Mcllvaine, at 
Pittsburgh, to take for free transportation all 
goods offered for the relief of the sufferers. No 
passenger trains were run, however, except the 
regular trains on the main line for Cumberland, 
Md., and the branches from the main line to 
Johnstown were used entirely by wildcat trains 
running on special orders, with no object but to 
get relief up as quickly as possible. Nothing had 
left Pittsburgh for Johnstown, however, to-day 
up to nine o'clock. Arrangements were made 
for a relief train to go out early in the afternoon, 
to pick up cars of contributed goods at the sta- 
tions along the line and get them into Johnstown 
some time during the night. "No specials" was 
also the rule on the Baltimore and Ohio, but Act- 
ing Superintendent Mcllvaine recognized in the 
Sim, widi its enormous possibilities in the way of 
spreading throughout the country the actual situa- 
tion of affairs in the devastated district, a means 
of awaking the public to the extent of the disaster 
that would be of more efficient relief to the suffer- 
ing people than even train-loads of food and cloth- 



222 ^-^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

ing. The Spin's case was therefore made excep 
tional, and when the situation was explained to him 
he consented, for a sum that appalled the repre- 
sentatives of some other papers who heard it, but 
which was, for the distance to be covered, very 
fair, to set the Sun s men down in Johnstown at 
the earliest moment that steam and steel and iron 
could do it. 

In fifteen minutes one of the Baltimore and 
Ohio light passenger engines, with Engineer W, 
E. Scott in charge and Fireman Charles Hood for 
assistant, was hitched to a single coach out in the 
yard. Conductor W. B. Clancy was found some- 
where about and put in command of the expedi- 
tion. Brakeman Dan Lynn was captured just as 
he was leaving an incoming train, and although 
he had been without sleep for a day, he readily 
consented to complete the crew of the Sun s 
train. There was no disposition to be hoggish in 
the matter, and at a time like this the great thing 
was to get the best possible information as to af- 
fairs at Johnstown spread over the country in the 
least possible time. The facilities of the train 
were therefore placed at the disposal of other 
newspaper men who were willing to share in the 
expense. None of them, however, availed them- 
selves of this chance to save practically a whole 
day In reaching the scene, except the artist repre- 
senting Harper's Weekly, who had accompanied 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



223 



the Sitn men this far in their race against time 
from the East, As far as the New York papers 
were concerned, there were no men except those 
from the 82111 to take the train. If any other New 
York newspaper men had yet reached Pittsburgh 
at all, they were not to be found around the Balti- 
more and Ohio station, where the Sun extended 
its invitation to the other representatives of the 
press. There were a number of Western news- 
paper men on hand, but journalism in that section 
is not accustomed to big figures except in circula- 
tion affidavits, and they were staggered at the idea 
of paying even a share of the expense that the Sun 
was bearing practically alone. 

At 9.15 A. M,, therefore, when the special train 
pulled out of the Baltimore and Ohio station, it 
had for passengers only the Sun men and Har- 
per s artist. As it started Acting Superintendent 
Mcllvaine was asked : — 

" How quickly can we make it ? " 

"Well, it's one hundred and forty-six miles," 
he replied, " and it's all kinds of road. There's 
an accommodation train that you will have to look 
out for until you pass it, and that will delay you. 
It's hard to make any promise about time." 

'• Can we make it in five hours ? " he was asked. 

'T think you can surely do that," he replied. 

How much better than the acting superintend- 
ent's word was the performance of Engineer 



224 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



Scott and his crew this story shows. The special, 
after leaving Pittsburgh, ran wild until it got to 
McKeesport, sixteen miles distant. At this point 
the regular train, which left Pittsburgh at 8.40, 
was overtaken. The regular train was on a sid 
ing, and the special passed through the city with 
but a minute's stop. Then the special had a clear 
track before it, and the engineer drove his ma- 
chine to the utmost limit of speed consistent with 
safety. It is nineteen miles from McKeesport to 
West Newton, and the special made this distance 
in twenty minutes, the average time of over a 
mile a minute being much exceeded for certain 
periods. The curves of the road are frightful, 
and at times the single car which composed the 
train was almost swung clear off the track. The 
S2m men recalled vividly the ride of Horace 
Greeley with Hank Monk, and they began to re- 
flect that there was such a thing as riding so fast 
that they might not be able to reach Johnstown 
at all. From Layton's to Dawson the seven and 
one-half miles were made in seven minutes, while 
the fourteen miles from Layton's to Connellsville 
were covered in fourteen minutes precisely. On 
the tender of the engine the cover of the water- 
tank flew open and the water splashed out. Coal 
flew from the tender in great lumps, and dashed 
against the end of the car. Inside the car the 
newspaper men's grips and belongings went fly- 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



225 



ing- around on the floor and over seats like mad. 
The Allegheny River, whose curves the rails fol- 
lowed, seemed to be right even with the car win- 
dows, so that one could look straight down into 
the water, so closely to it was the track built. 
In Connellsville there was a crowd to see the 
special. On the depot was the placard : — 

" Car will leave at 3 P. M. to clay with food and 
clothing for Johnstown." 

In Connellsville the train stopped five minutes 
and underwent a thorough inspection. Then it 
shoved on again. At Confluence, twenty-seven 
miles from Connellsville, a bridge of a Baltimore 
and Ohio branch line across the river was washed 
away, but this didn't interfere with the progress 
of the special. For sixty miles on the road is up 
hill at a grade of sixty-five feet to the mile, and 
the curves, if anything, are worse, but there was 
no appreciable diminution in the speed of the 
train. Just before reaching Rockwood the first 
real traces of the flood were apparent. The 
waters of the Castlemore showed signs of having 
been recently right up to the railroad tracks, and 
driftwood and debris of all descriptions lay at the 
side of the rails. Nearly all bridges on the coun- 
try roads over the river were washed away and 
their remnants scattered along the banks. 

Rockwood was reached at 12.05 P- M- Rock- 
wood is eighty-seven miles from McKeesport, and 



2^5 "^^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

this distance, which is up an extremely steep 
grade, was therefore made in two hours, which 
includes fifteen minutes' stop. The distance cov- 
ered from Pittsburgh was one hundred and two 
miles in two hours. Rockwood is the junction of 
the main line of the Baltimore and Ohio road at 
its Cambria branch, which runs to Johnstown. 
The regular local train from there to Johnstown 
was held to allow the Suns special to pass first. 

The Sims special left Rockwood at 12.20 in 
charge of Engineer Oliver, who assumed charge 
at that point. He said that the branch to Johns- 
town was a mountain road, with steep grades, 
very high embankments, and damaged in spots, 
and that he would have to use great precaution 
in running. He gave the throttle a yank and the 
train started with a jump that almost sent the 
newspaper men on their heads. Things began to 
dance around the car furiously as the train dashed 
along at a great pace, and the reporters began to 
wonder what Engineer Oliver meant by his talk 
about precautions. All along the route up the 
valley at the stations were crowds of people, who 
stared in silence as the train swept by. On the 
station platforms were piled barrels of flour, boxes 
of canned goods, and bales of clothing. The 
roads leading in from the country to the stations 
were full of farmers' wagons laden with produce 
of all kinds for the sufferers. 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



227 



The road from Rockwood to Johnstown lies in 
a deep gully, at the bottom of which flows little 
Stony Creek, now swollen to a torrent. Wooden 
troughs under the track carry off the water which 
trickles down from the hills, otherwise the track 
would be useless. As it is there are frequent 
washouts, which have been partly filled in, and 
for ten miles south of Johnstown all trains have to 
be run very slowly. The branches of trees above 
the bank which have been blown over graze the 
cars on the railroad tracks. The Suns special 
arrived in Johnstown at two o'clock. 



CHAPTER XX. 

The experience of the newspaper correspond- 
ents in the Conemaugh valley was the experience 
of a lifetime. Few war correspondents, even, 
have been witnesses of such appalling" scenes of 
horror and desolation. Day after day they were 
busy recording the annals of death and despair, 
conscious, meanwhile, that no expressions of ac- 
cumulated pathos at their command could do jus- 
tice to the theme. They had only to stand in the 
street wherever a knot of men had gathered, to 
hear countless stories of thrilling escapes. Hun- 
dreds of people had such narrow escapes that 
they hardly dared to believe that they were saved 
for hours after they reached solid ground. Wil- 
liam Wise, a young man who lived at Woodvale, 
was walkinp- along; the road when the rush of 
water came down the valley. He started to rush 
up the side of the hills, but stopped to help a young 
woman, Ida Zidstein, to escape ; lost too much time, 
and was forced to drag the young woman upon a 
high pile of metal near the road. They had clung 
22S 



THE JOHNS TO 1 1 W TLOOD. 229 

there several hours, and thought that they could 
bodi escape, as the metal pile was not exposed to 
the full force of the torrent. A telegraph pole 
came dashing down the flood, its top standing 
above the water, from which dangled some wires. 
The pole was caught in an eddy opposite the pile. 
It shot in toward the two who were clinmno; there. 
As the pole swung around, the wires came through 
the air like a whip-lash, and catching in the hair of 
the young woman, dragged her down to instant 
death. The young man remained on the heap 
of metal for hours before the water subsided so as 
to allow him to escape. 

One man named Homer, with his child, age six, 
was on one of the houses which were first carried 
away. He climbed to the roof and held fast there 
for four hours, floating all the way to Bolivar, fif- 
teen miles below, 

A young hero sat upon the roof of his father's 
house, holding his mother and little sister. Once 
the house swung in toward a brick structure which 
still rested on its foundation. As one house struck 
the other, the boy sprang into one of the windows. 
As he turned to rescue his mother and sister, the 
house swung out again, and the boy, seeing that 
there was no possibility of getting them off, leaped 
back to their side. A second time the house was 
stopped — this time by a tree. The boy helped 
his mother and sister to a place of safety in the 



\ 

230 THE JOHNS TO IVN FL O OD. 

tree, but before he could leave the roof, the house 
was swept on and he was drowned. 

One man took his whole family to the roof of 
his floating house. He and one child escaped to 
another buildingf, but his wife and five children 
were whirled around for hours, and finally carried 
down to the bridge where so many people perished 
in the flames. They were all rescued. 

District Attorney Rose, his wife, two brothers 
and two sisters were swept across the lower por- 
tion of the town. They had been thrown into 
the water, and were swimming, the men assisting 
the women. Finally, they got into a back current, 
and were cast ashore at the foot of the hills back 
of Knoxville. 

One merchant of Johnstown, after floating about 
upon a piece of wreckage for hours, was carried 
down to the stone bridge. After a miraculous 
escape from being burned to death, he was res- 
cued and carried ashore. He was so dazed and 
terrified by his experience, however, that he walked 
off the bridge and broke his neck. 

One man who was powerless to save his wife, 
after he had leaped from a burning building to a 
house floating by, was driven insane by her shrieks 
for help. 

An old gentleman of Verona rescued a modern 
Moses from the bulrushes. Verona is on the east 
bank of the Allegheny river, twelve miles above 



THE JO HNS TO IVN FLOOD. 2 3 I 

Pittsburg. Mr, McCutcheon, while standing on 
the river bank watching the drift floating by, was 
compelled by instinct to take a skiff and row out 
to one dense mass of timber. As he reached it, 
he was startled to find in the centre, out of the 
reach of the water, a cradle covered with the 
clothing. As he lifted the coverings aside a pretty 
five-months-old boy baby smiled on him. The 
little innocent, unconscious of the scenes it had 
passed through, crowed with delight as the old 
man lifted it tenderly, cradle and all, into his skiff 
and brought it ashore. 

Among the miraculous escapes is that of George 
J. Lea and family. When the rush of water came 
there were eight people on the roof of Lea's house. 
The house swung around and floated for nearly 
half an hour before it struck the wreck above the 
stone bridge. A three-year-old girl, with sunny, 
golden hair and dimpled cheeks, prayed all the 
while that God would save them, and it seemed 
that God really answered the prayer and directed 
the house against the drift, enabling every one of 
the eight to get off 

H. M. Bennett and S. W. Keltz, enorineer and 
conductor of engine No. 1165 and the extra 
freight, which happened to be lying at South Fork 
when the dam broke, tell a graphic story of their 
wonderful flight and escape on the locomotive 
before the advancing flood. Bennett and Keltz 



232 THE JOHNSTO WN FL OOD. 

were in the signal tower awaiting orders. The 
fireman and flagman were on the engine, and two 
brakemen were asleep in the caboose. Suddenly 
the men in the tower heard a roarino- sound in the 
valley above them. They looked in that direction 
and were almost transfixed with horror to see, two 
miles above them, a huge black wall of water, at 
least 150 feet in height, rushing down the valley. 
The fear-stricken men made a rush for the loco- 
motive, at the same time giving the alarm to the 
sleeping brakemen in the caboose, but with no 
avail. It was impossible to aid them further, how- 
ever, so Bennett and Keltz cut the encrine loose 
from the train, and the engineer, with one wild 
wrench, threw the lever wide open, and they were 
away on a mad race for life. It seemed that they 
would not receive momentum enough to keep 
ahead of the flood, and they cast one despairing 
glance back. Then they could see the awful 
deluge approaching in its might. On it came, 
rolling and roaring, tossing and tearing houses, 
sheds and trees in its awful speed as If they were 
toys. As they looked, they saw the two brake- 
men rush out of the caboose, but they had not 
time to gather the slightest idea of the cause of 
their doom before they, the car and signal tower 
were tossed high in the air, to disappear forever. 
Then the engine leaped forward like a thing of 
life, and speeded down the valley. But fast as it 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 233 

went, the flood gained upon It. In a few moments 
the shrieking locomotive whizzed around a curve, 
and they were in sight of a bridge. Horror upon 
horrors ! ahead of them was a freight train, with 
the rear end almost on the bridge, and to get 
across was simply impossible. Engineer Bennett 
then reversed the lever, and succeeded in check- 
ing the engine as they glided across the bridge. 
Then the men jumped and ran for their lives up 
the hillside. The brido^e and the tender of the 
engine they had been on were swept away like a 
bundle of matches. 

A young man who was a passenger on the 
Derry express furnishes an interesting account of 
his experiences. " When we reached Derry," he 
said, "our train was boarded by a relief commit- 
tee, and no sooner was it ascertained that we were 
going on to Sang Hollow than the contributions 
of provisions and supplies of every kind were 
piled on board, filling an entire car. On reaching 
Sang Hollow the scene that presented itself to us 
was heart-rending. The road was lined with 
homeless people, some with a trunk or solitary 
chair, the only thing saved from their household 
goods, and all wearing an aspect of the most hope- 
less misery. Men were at work transferring from 
a freight car a pile of corpses at least sixty in 
number, and here and there a ghastly something 
under a covering showed where the body of some 



2 34 ^^^ JOHNSTO WN FL OOD. 

victim of the flood lay awaiting identification or 
burial in a nameless grave. Busy workers were 
engaged in clearing away the piles of driftwood 
and scattered articles of household use which 
cumbered the tracks and the roads. These piles 
told their own mournful story. There were beds, 
bureaus, mattresses, chairs, tables, pictures, dead 
horses and mules, overcoats, remnants of dresses 
sticking on the branches of trees, and a thousand 
other odd pieces of flotsam and jetsam from ruined 
homes. I saw a man get ofl" the train and pick up 
an insurance policy for $30,000. Another took 
away as relics a baby's chair and a confirmation 
card in a battered frame. On the banks of the 
Little Conemaugh creek people were delving in 
the driftwood, which was piled to a depth of six or 
seven feet, unearthing and carrying away whatever 
could be turned to account. Under those piles, it 
is thought, numbers of bodies are buried, not to 
be recovered except by the labor of many days. 
A woman and a little girl were brought from Johns- 
town by some means which I could not ascertain. 
The woman was in confinement, and was carried 
on a lounge, her sole remaining piece of property. 
She was taken to Latrobe for hgspital treatment. 
I cannot understand how it is that people are 
unable to make their way from Sang Hollow to 
Johnstown. The distance is short, and it should 
certainly be a comparatively easy task to get over 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 237 

It on foot or horseback. However, there seems to 
be some insuperable obstacle. All those who 
made the trip on the train with me in order to 
obtain tidings of their friends in Johnstown, were 
forced to return as I did. 

"The railroad is in a terrible condition. The 
day express and the limited, which left Pittsburg 
on Friday morning, are lying between Johnstown 
and Conemaugh on the east, having been cut off 
by the flood. Linemen were sent down from our 
train at every station to repair the telegraph wires 
which are damaged. Tremendous efforts are be- 
ing exerted to repair the injury sustained by the 
railroad, and it is only a question of a couple of 
days until through communication is reestablished. 
Our homeward trip was marked by a succession 
of sad spectacles. At Blairsville intersection two 
little girls lay dead, and in a house taken from the 
river was the body of a woman. Some idea of 
the force of the flood may be had from the state- 
ment that freight cars, both loaded and empty, 
had been lifted bodily from the track, and carried 
a distance of several blocks, and deposited in a 
graveyard in the outskirts of the town, where they 
were lying in a mass mixed up with tombstones 
and monuments." 



H 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Where the carcass is, there will the vultures be 
gathered togfether. It is humiliatinor to human 
nature to record it, but it is nevertheless true, that 
amid all the suffering and sacrifice, and heroism 
and generosity that was displayed in this awful 
time, there arose some of the basest passions of 
unbridled vice. The lust of gain led many skulk- 
ing wretches to rob and despoil, and even to 
mutilate the bodies of the dead. Pockets were 
searched. Jewels were stolen. Finger-rings and 
ear-rings were torn away, the knife often being 
used upon the poor, dead clay to facilitate the 
spoliation. Against this savagery the better ele- 
ments of the populace sternly revolted. For 
the time there was no organized government. 
But outraged and indignant humanity soon formu- 
lates its own code of laws. Pistol and rope and 
bludgeon, in the hand of honesty, did effective 
work. The reports of summary lynchings that 
at first were spread abroad were doubtless exag- 
gerated, but they had a stern foundation of truth ; 

and they had abundant provocation. 

23S 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 239 

Writing on that tragic Sunday, one correspond- 
ent says : " The way of the transgressor in the 
desolated valley of the Conemaugh is hard indeed. 
Each hour reveals some new and horrible story 
of suffering and outrage, and every succeeding 
hour brings news of swift and merited punish- 
ment meted out to the fiends who have dared to 
desecrate the stiff and mangled bodies in the city 
of the dead, and torture the already half-crazed 
victims of the cruelest of modern catastrophes. 
Last night a party of thirteen Hungarians were 
noticed stealthily picking their way along the 
banks of the Conemaugrh toward Sano^ Hollow. 
Suspicious of their purpose, several farmers 
armed themselves and started in pursuit. Soon 
their most horrible fears were realized. The Hun- 
garians were out for plunder. They came upon 
the dead and mangled body of a woman, lying 
upon the shore, upon whose person there were 
a number of trinkets of jewelry and two diamond 
rings. In their eagerness to secure the plunder, 
the Hungarians got into a squabble, during which 
one of the number severed the finger upon which 
were the rings, and started on a run with his 
fearful prize. The revolting nature of the deed 
so wrought upon the pursuing farmers, who by 
this time were close at hand, that they gave imme- 
diate chase. Some of the Hungarians showed 
fight, but, being outnumbered, were compelled 



2 40 THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 

to flee for their lives. Nine of the brutes escaped, 
but four were literally driven into the surging 
river and to their death. The thief who took the 
rings was among the number of the involuntary 
suicides." 

At 8.30 o'clock this morning an old railroader, 
who had walked from Sang Hollow, stepped up to 
a number of men who were on the platform sta- 
tion at Curranville, and said : — 

" Gendemen, had I a shot-gun with me half an 
hour ago, I would now be a murderer, yet with no 
fear of ever having to suffer for my crime. Two 
miles below here I watched three men going along 
the banks stealing the jewels from the bodies of 
the dead wives and dauohters of men who have 
been robbed of all they hold dear on earth." 

He had no sooner finished the last sentence 
than five burly men, with looks of terrible determi- 
nation written on their faces, were on their way to 
the scene of plunder, one with a coil of rope over 
his shoulder and another with a revolver in his 
hand. In twenty minutes, so it is stated, they had 
overtaken two of their victims, who were then in 
the act of cutting pieces from the ears and fingers 
from the hands of the bodies of two dead women. 
With revolver leveled at the scoundrels, the 
leader of the posse shouted:- — 

"Throw up your hands, or I'll blow your heads 
off!" 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 24 1 

With blanched faces and trembling forms, they 
obeyed the order and begged for mercy. They 
were searched, and, as their pockets were emptied 
of their ghastly finds, the indignation of the crowd 
intensified, and when a bloody finger of an infant 
encircled with two tiny gold rings was found 
among the plunder in the leader's pocket, a cry 
went up, "Lynch them ! Lynch them !" Without 
a moment's delay ropes were thrown around their 
necks and they were dangling to the limbs of a 
tree, in the branches of which an hour before 
were entangled the bodies of a dead father and 
son. After half an hour the ropes were cut ajid 
the bodies lowered and carried to a pile of rocks 
in the forest on the hill above. It is hinted that 
an Allegheny county official was one of the most 
prominent in this justifiable homicide. 

One miserable wretch who was caught in the 
act of mutilating a body was chased by a crowd 
of citizens, and when captured was promptly strung 
up to a telegraph pole. A company of officers 
rescued him before he was dead, much to the dis- 
gust of many reputable people, whose feelings had 
been outraged by the treatment of their deceased 
relations. Shortly after midnight an attempt was 
made to rob the First National Bank, which, with 
the exception of the vaults, had been destroyed. 
The plunderers were discovered by the citizens' 
patrol, which had been established during the 



242 THE JOHNSTO WN FL OOD. 

night, and a lively chase ensued, A number of 
die diieves — six, it is said — were shot. It is not 
known whether any were killed or not, as their 
bodies would have been washed away almost im- 
mediately if such had been the case. 

A number of Hungarians collected about a 
number of bodies at Cambria which had been 
washed up, and began rifling the trunks. After 
they had secured all the contents they turned their 
attention to the dead. 

The ghastly spectacle presented by the distorted 
features of those who had lost their lives during 
the flood had no influence upon the ghouls, who 
acted more like wild beasts than human beings. 
They took every article from the clothing on the 
dead bodies, not leaving anything of value or any- 
thing that would serve to identify the remains. 

After the miscreants had removed all their 
plunder to dry ground a dispute arose over a 
division of the spoils. A pitched battle followed, 
and for a time the situation was alarming. Knives 
and clubs were used freely. As a result several 
of the combatants were seriously wounded and 
left on the ground, their fellow-countrymen not 
making any attempt to remove them from the 
field of strife. 

A Hungarian was caught in the act of cutting 
off a dead woman's finger, on which was a costly 
ring. The infuriated spectators raised an outcry 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 243 

and the fiend fled. He was hotly pursued, and 
after a half-hour's hard chase, was captured and 
hanged to a telegraph pole, but was cut down and 
resuscitated by ofiicers. Liquor emboldened the 
ghouls, and Pittsburg was telegraphed for help, 
and the i8th and 14th Regiments, Battery B and 
the Washington Infantry were at once called out 
for duty, members being apprised by posters in 
the newspaper windows. 

One correspondent wrote : " The number of 
drunken men is remarkable. Whiskey seems 
marvelously plenty. Men are actually carrying 
it around in pails. Barrels of the stuff are con- 
stantly located among the drifts, and men are scram- 
bling over each other and fighting like wild beasts 
in their mad search for it. At the cemetery, 
at the upper end of town, I saw a sight that 
rivals the Inferno. A number of ghouls had 
found a lot of fine groceries, among them a barrel 
of brandy, with which they were fairly stuffing 
themselves. One huge fellow was standing on 
the strings of an upright piano singing a profane 
song, every little while breaking into a wild dance. 
A half-dozen others were engaged in a hand-to- 
hand fight over the possession of some treasure 
stolen from a ruined house, and the crowd around 
the barrel were yelling like wild men." 

These reports were largely discredited and 
denied by later and probably more trustworthy 



2 44 • THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

authorities, but there was doubtless a considerable 
residue of truth in them. 

There were so many contradictory stories about 
these horrible doings that our painstaking cor- 
respondent put to "Chall" Dick, the Deputy 
Sheriff, this "leading question " : "Did you- shoot 
any robbers?" Chall did not make instant reply, 
but finally looked up with a peculiar expression 
on his face and said : — 

"There are some men whom their friends will 
never arain see alive." 

"Well, now, how many did you shoot?" was the 
next question. 

"Say," said Chall. "On Saturday morning I 
was the first to make my way to Sang Hollow to 
see if I could not get some food for people made 
homeless by the flood. There was a car-load of 
provisions there, but the vandals were on hand. 
They broke into the car and, in spite of my pro- 
testations, carried off box after box of supplies. 
I only got half a wagon load. They were too 
many for me. I know when I have no show. 
There was no show there and I got out. 

"As I was leaving Sang Hollow and got up the 
mountain road a piece, I saw two Hungarians and 
one woman engaged in cutting the fingers off of 
corpses to get some rings. Well, I got off that 
team and — well, there are three people who were 
not drowned and who are not alive." 



TEE JOHNS TO IVN FL O OD. 245 

" Where are the bodies ?" 

" Ain't the river handy there ? I went down to 
Sang Hollow on Sunday, but I went fixed for 
trouble that time. When I got Into the hollow 
the officers had in tow a man who claimed he was 
arrested because he had bummed it on the freight 
train. A large crowd of men were trying to res- 
cue the fellow. I rode into that crowd and scat- 
tered it. I got between the crowd and officers, 
who succeeded in getting their man in here. The 
fellow had been robbing the dead and had a lot of 
jewelry on his person, I see by the papers that 
Consul Max Schamberg, of Pittsburg, asserts that 
the Huns are a law-abidino- race, and that when 
they were accused of robbing the dead they were 
simply engaged in trying to identify some of their 
friends. Consul Schamberg does not know what 
he is talking about. I know better, for I saw them 
engaged in robbing the dead. 

" Those I caught at it will never do the like 
again. Why, I saw them let go of their friends in 
the water to catch a bedstead with a mattress on 
it. That's the sort of law-abiding citizens the 
Huns are." 

Down the Cambria road, past which the dead 
of the river Conemaugh swept into Nineveh in 
awful numbers, was witnessed a wretched scene 
— that of a young officer of the National Guard 
in full uniform, and a poor deputy-sheriff, who had 



2 46 THE JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. 

lost home, wife, children and all, clinched like 
madmen and struggling for the former's revolver. 
If the officer of the Guard had won, there might 
have been a tragedy, for he was drunk. The 
homeless deputy-sheriff, with his wife and babies 
swept to death past the place where they strug- 
gled, was sober and in the right. 

The officer was a first lieutenant. His company 
came with that regiment into this valley of distress 
to protect survivors from ruffianism and maintain 
the peace and dignity of the State. The man with 
whom he fought for the weapon was almost crazy 
in his own woe, but singularly cool and self-pos- 
sessed regarding the safety of those left living. 

It was one o'clock in the afternoon when a Phil- 
adelphia Press correspondent noticed on the Cam- 
bria road the young officer with his long military 
coat cut open, leaning heavily for support upon 
two privates. He was crying in a maudlin way, 
" You just take me to a place and I'll drink soft 
stuff." They entreated him to return at once to 
the regimental headquarters, even begged him, 
but he cast them aside and went staggering down 
the road to the line, where he met the grave-faced 
deputy face to face. The latter looked in the 
white of his eyes and said: "You can't pass here, 
sir. 

" Can't pass here ?" he cried, waving his arms. 
" You challenge an officer ? Stand aside !" 



THE JOHNS TO IVN FL O OD. 2 47 

" You can't pass here !" this time quietly, but 
firmly ; " not while you're drunk." 

" Stand aside !" yelled the lieutenant. " Do you 
know who I am ? You talk to an officer of the 
National Guard." 

" Yes ; and listen," said the man in front of 
him so impatiently that it hushed his antagonist's 
tirade. " I talk to an ' officer ' of the National 
Guard — I who have lost my wife, my children and 
all in this flood no man has yet described ; we 
who have seen our dead with their bodies muti- 
lated and their fingers cut from their hands by 
dirty foreigners for a little gold, are not afraid to 
talk for what is right, even to an officer of the 
National Guard." 

While he spoke another great, dark, stout man, 
who looked as if he had suffered, came up, and 
upon taking in the situation every vein in his fore- 
head swelled purple with rage. 

"You dirty cur," he cried to the officer; "you 
dirty, drunken cur, if it was not for the sake of 
peace I'd lay you out where you stand." 

" Come on," yelled the Lieutenant, with an oath. 

The big man sent out a terrible blow that would 
have left the Lieutenant senseless had not one of 
the privates dashed In between, receiving part of 
it and warding it off The Lieutenant got out of 
his military coat. The privates seized the big 
man and with another correspondent, who ran to 



2 48 THE JOHNSTO WN FL O OD. 

the scene, held him back. The Lieutenant put his 
hand to his pistol pocket, the deputy seized him, 
and the struggle for the weapon began. For a 
moment it was fierce and desperate, then another 
private came to the deputy's assistance. The 
revolver was wrested from the drunken officer 
and he himself was pushed back panting to the 
p-round. 

o 

The deputy seized the military coat he had 
thrown on the ground, and with it and the weapon 
started to the regimental headquarters. Then 
the privates got around him and begged him, one 
of them with tears in his eyes, not to report their 
officer, saying that he was a good man when he 
was sober. He studied a long while, standing in 
the road, while the officer slunk away over the 
hill. Then he threw the disgraced uniform to 
them, and said : " Here, give them to him ; and, 
mind you, if he does not go at once to his quar- 
ters, I'll take him there, dead or alive." 



CHAPTER XXII. 

While yet the first wild cry of anguish was 
thrillinof amono- the startled hills of the Cone- 
maugh, the great heart of the nation answered it 
with a mighty throb of sympathy. On Tuesday 
afternoon, at Washington, the President called a 
gathering of eminent citizens to devise measures 
of relief The meeting was held in Willard's 
Hall, on F street, above Fourteenth, and President 
Harrison made such an eloquent appeal for assist- 
ance that nearly $10,000 was raised in the hour 
and a half that the meeting was in session. 

As presiding officer the Chief Magistrate sat in 
a big- arm-chair on the stao-e. On his rigrht were 
District Commissioner Douglass, Hine and Ray- 
mond, and on his left sat Postmaster -General 
Wanamaker and Private Secretary Halford. In 
the audience were Secretaries Noble, Proctor and 
Tracy, Attorney- General Miller, Congressman 
Randall and Senators and Representatives from 

all parts of the country. 

249 



250 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

President Harrison called the meeting to order 
promptly at 3 o'clock. A dead silence fell over 
the three hundred people as the President stepped 
to the front of the platform and in a clear, dis- 
tinct voice appealed for aid for the thousands who 
had been bereft of their all by the terrible calam- 
ity. His voice trembled once or twice as he dwelt 
upon the scene of death and desolation, and a 
number of handkerchiefs were called into use at 
his vivid portrayal of the disaster. 

Upon taking the chair the President said : — 
"Every one here to-day is distressingly con- 
scious of the circumstances which have convened 
this meeting. It would be impossible to state 
more impressively than the newspapers have 
already done the distressing incidents attending 
the calamity which has fallen upon the city of 
Johnstown and the neighboring hamlets, and upon 
a large section of Pennsylvania situated upon the 
Susquehanna river. The grim pencil of Dore 
would be inadequate to portray the horrors of this 
visitation. In such meeting-s as we have here in 
the national capital and other like gatherings that 
are taking place in all the cities of this land, we 
have the only rays of hope and light in the gen- 
eral gloom. When such a calamitous visitation 
falls upon any section of our country we can do 
no more than to put about the dark picture the 



THE JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. 2 5 1 

golden border of love and chanty. [Applause.] 
It is in such fires as these that the brotherhood of 
man is welded. 

" And where is sympathy and help more appro- 
priate than here in the national capital ? I am 
glad to say that early this morning, from a city not 
long ago visited with pestilence, not long ago 
itself appealing to the charitable people of the 
whole land for relief — the city of Jacksonville, 
Fla. — there came the ebb of that tide of charity 
which flowed toward it in the time of its need, in a 
telegram from the Sanitary Relief Association au- 
thorizing me to draw upon them for ^2000 for the 
relief of the Pennsylvania sufferers. [Applause.] 

" But this is no time for speech. While I talk 
men and women are suffering for the relief which 
we plan to give. One word or two of practical 
suggestion, and I will place this meeting in your 
hands to give effect to your impatient benevo- 
lence. • I have a despatch from the Governor of 
Pennsylvania advising me that communication has 
just been opened with Williamsport, on a branch 
of the Susquehanna river, and that the losses in 
that section have been appalling ; that thousands 
of people there are homeless and penniless, and 
that there is an immediate call for food to relieve 
their necessities. He advises me that any sup- 
plies of food that can be hastily gathered here 
should be sent via Harrisburg to Williamsport, 



252 THE JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 

where they will be distributed. I suggest, there- 
fore, that a committee be constituted having in 
charge the speedy collection of articles of food. 

"The occasion is such that the bells miofht well 
be rung through your streets to call the attention 
of the thoughtless to this great exigency — in order 
that a train load of provisions may be despatched 
to-night or in the early morning to this suffering 
people. 

" I suggest, secondly, as many of these people 
have had the entire furnishino-s of their houses 
swept away and have now only temporary shelter, 
that a committee be appointed to collect such 
articles of clothing, and especially bed clothing, 
as can be spared. Now that the summer season 
is on, there can hardly be a house in Washington 
which cannot spare a blanket or a coverlet. 

" And, third, I suesfest that from the substantial 
business men and bankers there be appointed a 
committee who shall collect money, for after the 
first exigency is past there will be found in those 
communities very many who have lost their all, who 
will need aid in the construction of their demol- 
ished homes and in furnishing them so that they 
may be again inhabited. 

" Need I say in conclusion that, as a temporary 
citizen of Washington, it would eive me grreat satis- 
faction if the national capital should so generously 
respond to this call of our distressed fellow citi- 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 255 

zens as to be conspicuous among the cities of our 
land. [Applause.] I feel that, as I am now calling- 
for contributions, I should state that on Saturday, 
when first apprised of the disaster at Johnstown, 
I telegraphed a subscription to the Mayor of that 
city. I do not like to speak of anything so per- 
sonal as this, but I felt it due to myself and to you 
that I should say so much as this." 

The vice presidents elected included all the 
members of the Cabinet, Chief Justices Fuller, 
Bingham and Richardson, M. G. Emery, J. A. J. 
Cresswell, Dr. E. B. Clark, of the Bank of the 
Republic ; C. L. Glover, of the Riggs Bank ; 
Cashier James, of the Bank of Washington; B. H. 
Warner, Ex-Commissioners Webb and Wheatley, 
Jesse B. Wilson, Ex-Minister Foster and J. W. 
Thompson. The secretaries were S. H. Kauf- 
mann, Beriah Wilkins, E. W. Murphy and Hallett 
Kilbourne ; treasurer, E. Kurtz Johnson, 

While subscriptions were being taken up, the 
President intimated that suggestions would be in 
order, and a prompt and generous response was 
the result. The Adams Express Company volun- 
teered to transport all material for the relief of the 
distressed people free of charge, and the Lamont 
Opera Company tendered their services for a 
benefit, to be given in aid of the sufferers. The 
managers offered the use of their theatre free of 
charge for any performances. Numerous other 
15 



256 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. "* 

offers of provisions and clothing were made and 
accepted. 

Then President Harrison read a number of tele- 
grams from Governor Beaver, in which he gave a 
brief synopsis of the horrors of the situation and 
asked for the government pontoon bridge. 

" I regret to say," added the President, " that the 
entire length of the pontoon bridge is only 550 feet. 
Governor Beaver advises me that the present hor- 
rors are not alone to be dreaded, but he fears that 
pestilence may come. I would therefore suggest 
that disinfectants be included in the donations. I 
think we should concentrate our efforts and work, 
through one channel, so that the work may be ex- 
peditiously done. In view of that fact we should 
have one headquarters and everything should be 
sent there. Then it could be shipped without 
delay." 

The use of Willard Hall was tendered and de- 
cided upon as a central point. The District Com- 
missioners were appointed a committee to receive 
and forward the contributions. When the collec- 
tions had been made, the amounts were read out 
and included sums ranging from $500 to ^i. 

The President, in dismissing the meeting, said : — 

" May I express the hope that this work will be 
earnestly and thoroughly pushed, and that every 
man and woman present will go from this meet- 
ing to use their influence in order that these 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 257 

supplies of food and clodiing so much and so 
prompdy needed may be secured, and diat either 
to-ni^ht or to-morrow morningr a train well 
freighted with reHef may go from Washington." 

In adjourning the meeting, President Harrison 
urged expediency in forwarding the materials for 
the sufferers. Just before adjournment a resolu- 
tion was read, thanking the President for the 
interest he had taken in the matter. President 
Harrison stepped to the front of the platform 
then, and declined the resolution in a few grace- 
ful remarks. 

"I appreciate the resolution," he said, "but I 
don't see why I should be thanked any more than 
the others, and I would prefer that the resolution 
be withdrawn." 

Pension Commissioner Tanner, on Monday, 
sent the following^ telegram to the United States 
Pension ag-ent at Pittsburo- : — 

" Make special any current vouchers from the 
towns in Pennsylvania ruined by floods and pay 
at once on their receipt. Where cerdficates have 
been lost in floods send permit to execute new 
voucher without presenting certificate to magis- 
trate. Permits signed in blank forwarded to-day. 
Make special all original certificates of pensioners 
residing in those towns and pay on receipt of 
vouchers, regardless of my instruction of May 
13th." 



258 THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 

The Governor of Pennsylvania issued the fol- 
lowing : — 

'' Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, 
"Executive Chamber, 
" Harrisburg, Pa., June 3d, 1889. 
" To the People of the United States : — 

"The Executive of the Commonwealth of Penn- 
sylvania has refrained hitherto from making any 
appeal to the people for their benefactions, in 
order that he might receive definite and reliable 
information from the centres of disaster durino- 
the late floods, which have been unprecedented in 
the history of the State or nation. Communica- 
tion by wire has been established with Johnstown 
to-day. The civil authorities are in control, the 
Adjutant General of the State cooperating with 
them ; order has been restored and is likely to 
continue. Newspaper reports as to the loss of 
life and property have not been exaggerated, 

"The valley of the Conemaugh, which is peculiar, 
has been swept from one end to the other as with 
the besom of destruction. It contained a popula- 
tion of forty thousand to fifty thousand people, 
living for the most part along the banks of a 
small river confined within narrow limits. The 
most conservative estimates place the loss of life 
at 5000 human beings, and of property at twenty- 
five millions. Whole towns have been utterly 
destroyed. Not a vestige remains. In the more 



THE JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. 259 

substantial towns the better bulldinors, to a certain 
extent, remain, but in a damaged condition. Those 
who are least able to bear it have suffered the loss 
of everything. 

"The most pressing needs, so far as food is 
concerned, have been supplied. Shoes and 
clothing of all sorts for men, women and children 
are greatly needed. Money is also urgently re- 
quired to remove the debris, bury the dead and 
care temporarily for the widows and orphans and 
for the homeless generally. Other localities have 
suffered to some extent in the same way, but not 
in the same degree. 

"Late advices seem to indicate that there is 
great loss of life and destruction of property along 
the west branch of the Susquehanna and in locali- 
ties from which we can get no definite informa- 
tion. What does come, however, is of the most 
appalling character, and it is expected that the 
details will add new horrors to the situation. 

" The responses from within and without the 
State have been most generous and cheering. 
North and South, East and West, from the United 
States and from England, there comes the same 
hearty, generous response of sympathy and help. 
The President, Governors of States, Mayors of 
cities, and individuals and communities, private 
and municipal corporations, seem to vie with each 
other in their expressions of sympathy and in their 



2 6o THE JOHNS TO IVN FL OD. 

contributions of substantial aid. But, gratifying 
as these responses are, there is no danger of their 
exceeding the necessities of the situation. 

"A careful organization has been made upon 
the ground for the distribution of whatever assist- 
ance is furnished, in kind. The Adjutant General 
of the State is there as the representative of the 
State authorities, and is giving personal attention, 
in connection with the Chief Burgess of Johns- 
town and a committee of relief, to the distribution 
of the help which is furnished. 

" Funds contributed in aid of the sufferers can 
be deposited with Drexel & Co., Philadelphia ; 
Jacob C. Bomberger, banker, Harrisburg, or Wil- 
liam R. Thompson & Co., bankers, Pittsburg. 
All money contributed will be used carefully and 
judiciously. Present wants are fairly met. 

"A large force will be employed at once to 
remove the debris and bury the dead, so as to 
avoid disease and epidemic. 

" The people of the Commonwealth and others 
whose unselfish generosity is hereby heartily 
appreciated and acknowledged may be assured 
that their contributions will be made to bring their 
benefactions to the immediate and direct relief of 
those for whose benefit they are intended. 

"James A. Beaver. 

" By the Governor, Charles W. Stone, Secre- 
tary of the Commonwealth." 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 2 6 1 

Governor Hill, of New York, also issued the 
following proclamation : — 

State of New York. 

" A disaster unparalleled of its kind in the his- 
tory of our nation has overtaken the inhabitants of 
the city of Johnstown and surrounding towns in our 
sister State of Pennsylvania. In consequence of a 
mighty flood thousands of lives have been lost, and 
thousands of those saved from the waters are home- 
less and in want. The sympathy of all the people of 
the State of New York is profoundly aroused in 
behalf of the unfortunate sufferers by the calamity. 
The State, in its capacity as such, has no power to 
aid, but the generous-hearted citizens of our State 
are always ready and willing to afford relief to those 
of their fellow countrymen who are in need, when- 
ever just appeal has been made. 

"Therefore, as the Governor of the State of New 
York, I hereby suggest that in each city and town 
in the State relief committees be formed, contribu- 
tions be solicited and such other appropriate action 
be taken as will promptly afford material assistance 
and necessary aid to the unfortunate. Let the 
citizens of every portion of the State vie with each 
other in helping with liberal hand this worthy and 
urgent cause. 

"Done at the Capitol, this third day of June, in 
the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred 
and eighty-nine." David B. Hill. 

By the Governor, William G. Rice, Sec. 



262 THE JOHNS TO WN FL OOD.. 

Nor were Americans in foreign lands less 
prompt with their offerings. On Wednesday, in 
Paris, a meeting of Americans was held at the 
United States Legation, on a call in the morning 
papers by Whitelaw Reid, the United States Min- 
ister, to express the sympathy of the Americans 
in Paris with the sufferers by the Johnstown calam- 
ity. In spite of the short notice the rooms of the 
Legation were packed, and many went away 
unable to s^ain admittance. Mr. Reid was called 
to the chair, and Mr. Ernest Lambert was ap- 
pointed secretary. The following resolutions 
were offered by Mr. Andrew Carnegie and sec- 
onded by Mr. James N. Otis : — 

Resolved, That we send across the Atlantic to 
our brethren, overwhelmed by the appalling dis 
aster at Johnstown, our most profound and heart- 
felt sympathy. Over their lost ones we mourn 
with them, and in every pang of all their misery 
we have our part. 

Resolved, That as American citizens we con- 
gratulate them upon and thank them for the 
numerous acts of noble heroism displayed under 
circumstances calculated to unnerve the bravest. 
Especially do we honor and admire them for the 
capacity shown for local self-government, upon 
which the stability of republican institutions de- 
pends, the military organizations sent from distant 
points to preserve order during the chaos that 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 263 

supervened having been returned to their homes 
as no longer required within forty-eight hours of 
the calamity. In these few hours the civil power 
recreated and asserted itself and resumed sway 
without the aid of counsel from distant authorities, 
but solely by and from the inherent power which 
remains in the people of Johnstown themselves. 

Resolved, That the thanks of this meeting be 
cordially tendered to Mr. Reid for his prompt and 
appropriate action in this matter, and for services 
as chairman of this meeting. 

Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be 
forwarded at once by telegraph to the Mayors of 
Johnstown, Pittsburg and Philadelphia. 

Brief and touching speeches were made by 
General Lawton, late United States Minister to 
Austria; the Hon. Abram S. Hewitt, General 
Meredith Read and others. 

The resolutions were then unanimously adopted, 
and a committee was appointed to receive sub- 
scriptions. About 40,000 francs were subscribed 
on the spot. The American bankers all agreed to 
open subscriptions the next day at their banking 
houses. " Buffalo Bill " subscribed the entire 
receipts of one entertainment, to be given under 
the auspices of the committee. 

Besides those already named, there were pres- 
ent Benjamin Brewster, Louis von Hoffman, 
Charles A. Pratt, ex-Congressman Lloyd Bryce, 



264 '^^E JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 

Clarence Dinsmore, Edward Tuck, Professor 
Chanler, the Rev. Dr. Stoddard and others from 
New York ; Colonel Otis Ritchie, of Boston ; 
General Franklin and Assistant Commissioner 
Tuck ; George W. Allen, of St. Louis ; Consul- 
General Rathbone, and a large number of the 
American colony in Paris. It was the largest and 
most earnest meeting of Americans held in Paris 
for many years. 

The Municipal Council of Paris gave 5000 
francs to the victims of the floods. 

In London, the American Minister, Mr. Robert 
T. Lincoln, received from his countrymen there 
large contributions. Mr. Marshall R. Wilder, the 
comedian, gave an evening of recitations to swell 
the fund. Generous contributions also came from 
Berlin and other European cities. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

Spontaneously as the floods descended upon 
the fated valley, the American people sprang to 
the relief of the survivors. In every city and 
town subscription lists were opened, and clothing 
and bedding and food were forwarded by the 
train-load. Managers gave theatrical perform- 
ances and baseball clubs gave benefit games to 
swell the fund. The Mayors of New York, Phila- 
delphia and other large cities took personal charge 
of the collection and forwarding of funds and 
goods. In New York a meeting of representative 
citizens was called by the Mayor, and a committee 
formed, with General Sherman as chairman, and 
the presidents of the Produce Exchange and the 
Chamber of Commerce among the vice-chairmen, 
while the president of the Stock Exchange acted 
as treasurer. The following appeal was issued : — 

" To the People of the City of New York : — 

"The undersigned have been appointed a com- 
mittee by a meeting held at the call of the Mayor 

of the city to devise means for the succor and re- 

265 



266 THE JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 

lief of the sufferers in the Conemaugh Valley. A 
disaster of unparalleled magnitude has overtaken 
the people of that valley and elsewhere. With- 
out warning, their homes have been swept away 
by an unexpected and unprecedented flood. The 
daily journals of this city contain long lists of the 
dead, and the number of those who perished is 
still unknown. The survivors are destitute. They 
are houseless and homeless, with scant food and 
no shelter, and the destructive waters have not 
yet subsided. 

*' In this emergency their cry for help reaches 
us. There has never been an occasion in our 
history that the appeal to our citizens to be gener- 
ous in their contributions was of greater moment 
than the present. That generosity which has 
distinguished them above the citizens of every 
other city, and which was extended to the relief 
of the famishing in Ireland, to the stricken city of 
Charleston, to the plague-smitten city of Jackson- 
ville, and so on through the record of every event 
where man was compelled to appeal to man, will 
not be lacking in this most recent calamity. Gen- 
erous contributions have already reached the 
committee. Let the amount increase until they 
swell into a mighty river of benevolence. 

" The committee earnestly request, as the want 
is pressing and succor to be effectual must be 
speedy, that all contributions be sent at as early a 



THE JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. 267 

date as possible. Their receipt will be promptly- 
acknowledged and they will be applied, through 
responsible channels, to the relief of the destitute 
and suffering." 

All the exchanges, newspapers and other pub- 
lic agencies took up the work, and hundreds of 
thousands of dollars rolled in every day. Special 
collections were taken in the churches, and large 
sums were thus realized. 

In Philadelphia the work of relief was entered 
into in a similar manner, with equally gratifying 
results. By Tuesday evening the various funds 
established in that city for the sufferers had reached 
a total of $360,000. In addition over 100,000 
packages of provisions, clothing, etc., making 
fully twenty car-loads, had been started on the 
way. The leading business houses tendered the 
service of their delivery wagons for the collection 
of goods, and some of them placed donation 
boxes at their establishments, yielding handsome 
returns. 

At a meeting- of the Board of Directors of the 
Pennsylvania Railroad Company the following 
resolution was adopted by a unanimous vote : — 

" Resolved^ That in addition to the $5000 sub- 
scribed by this company at Pittsburg, the Penn- 
sylvania Railroad Company hereby makes an 
extra donation of $25,000 for the assistance of the 
sufferers by the recent floods at Johnstown and 



268 THE JOHNS TO WN FL O OD. 

Other points upon the Hnes of the Pennsylvania 
Railroad and the other affiliated roads, the con- 
tribution to be expended under the direction of 
the Committee on Finance." 

At the same time the members of the Board 
and executive officers added a contribution, as 
individuals, of ^5000. 

The Philadelphia and Reading Railroad Com- 
pany subscribed ^10,000 to the Citizens' Fund. 

In pursuance of a call issued by the Citizens' 
Permanent Relief Association, a largely-attended 
meeting was held at the Mayor's office. Drexel 
& Co., the treasurers of the fund, started the fund 
with a contribution of $10,000. Several subscrip- 
tions of $1000 each were announced. Many 
subscriptions were sent direct to Drexel & Co.'s 
banking house, including $5000 from the Phila- 
delphia brewers, $5000 from the Baldwin Loco- 
motive Works and other individual contributors. 

But the great cities had no monopoly of bene- 
factions. How every town in the land responded 
to the call may be imagined from a few items 
clipped at random from the daily papers, items 
the like of which for days crowded many columns 
of the public press : — 

Bethlehem, Penjt., yune j. — The Bethlehem Iron 
Company to-day contributed $5000 for the relief 
of the sufferers. 

Johnstown, Penn., June j. — Stephen Collins, of 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 269 

the Pittsburg post-office, and several other mem- 
bers of the Junior Order of United American 
Mechanics, were here to-day to estabhsh a reUef 
fund. They have informed the committees that 
the members of this strong organization are ready 
to do their best for their sufferers. 

Buffalo, June j. — A meeting was held at the 
Mayor's office to-day to devise means for the aid 
of the flood sufferers. The Mayor sent ^looo by 
telegraph this afternoon. A committee was 
appointed to raise funds. The Merchants' Ex- 
change also started a relief fund this morning. 
A relief train on the Western New York and 
Pennsylvania Railroad left here for Pittsburg to- 
night with contributions of food and clothing. 

Albany, Jujie j. — The Mornmg Express to-day 
started a subscription for the relief of the suffer- 
ers. A public meeting, presided over by Mayor 
Maher, was held at noon to-day, and a number of 
plans were adopted for securing funds. There is 
now on hand ^looo. Another meeting was held 
this evening. The offertory in the city churches 
will be devoted to the fund. 

Poughkeepsie, Jtme j. — A general movement 
was begun here to-day to aid the sufferers in Penn- 
sylvania. Mayor Rowley issued a proclamation 
and people have been sending money to The 
Eagle office all day. Factory operatives are con- 
tributing, clergymen are taking hold of the matter, 



270 THE JOHNSTO WN FL O OD. 

and to-night the Retail Dealers' Association held a 
public meeting at the Court House to appoint 
committees to o-o about amonof the merchants with 
subscription lists, Mrs. Brazier, proprietress of a 
knitting factory, sent off sixty dozen suits of under- 
wear to the sufferers to-day. 

Tj'-oy, yune J. — Subscriptions exceeding $1500 
for the relief of the Pennsylvania flood sufferers 
were received to-day by The Troy Press. The 
Mayor has called a public meeting for to-morrow. 

Washington, June j. — A subscription for the 
relief of the sufferers by the Johnstown flood was 
started at the Post-office Department to-day by 
Chief Clerk Cooley. First Assistant Postmaster- 
General Clarkson headed the list with $100. 
The indications are that nearly ^1000 will be 
raised in this Department. Postmaster-General 
Wanamaker had already subscribed $1000 in 
Philadelphia. 

The Post has started a subscription for the re- 
lief of the Johnstown sufferers. It amounts at 
present to ^810. The largest single contribution 
is $250 by Allen McLane. 

Trenton, ^une j. — In the Board of Trade rooms 
to-night over ^1000 was subscribed for the benefit 
of Johnstown sufferers. Contributions made to- 
day will swell the sum to double that amount. 
Committees were appointed to canvass the city. 

Chicago, June j. — Mayor Cregier called a pub- 



THE JO HNS TO WN FL OOD. 2/3 

lie meeting, which was held at the City Hall to-day, 
to take measures for the relief of the Johnstown 
sufferers. John B. Drake, of the Grand Pacific, 
headed a subscription with $500. 

Hartford, Conn., June j. — The House to-day 
concurred with the Senate in passing the resolu- 
tion appropriating ^25,000 for the flood sufferers. 

Boston, June j. — The House this afternoon ad- 
mitted a bill appropriating ^10,000 for the relief 
of the sufferers. 

A citizens' committee will receive subscriptions. 
It was announced that $4600 had already been 
subscribed. Dockstader's Minstrels will give a 
benefit to-morrow afternoon in aid of the sufferers' 
fund. 

Pittsfield, Mass., Jtme j. — A meeting was held 
here to-night and about $300 was raised for the 
Johnstown sufferers. The town will be canvassed 
to-morrow. Senator Dawes attended the meeting, 
made an address and contributed liberally. 

Charleston, S. C, June j. — At a meeting of 
the Charleston Cotton Exchange to-day $500 was 
subscribed for the relief of the flood sufferers. 

Fort Worth, Texas, June j. — The Texas Spring 
Palace Association to-night telegraphed to George 
W. Childs, of Philadelphia, that to-morrow's re- 
ceipts at the Spring Palace will be given to the 
sufferers by the flood, 

Nashville, Tenn., June j. — The American to- 
16 



2 74 ^-^^ JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 

day started a fund for the relief of the Johnstown 
sufferers. 

Utica, June 4. — Utica to-day sent ^2000 to 
Johnstown. 

Ithaca, June 4. — Cornell University has col- 
lected ^800 for the sufferers. 

Troy, June 4. — The Troy Z?7;z,g'i' sent this after- 
noon ^i 200 to the Mayor of Pittsburg. The Press 
sent ^1000, making ^2000 forwarded by The Press. 

Boston, June ^.— The House to-day amended 
its bill of yesterday and appropriated ^30,000. 

The Citizens' Committee has received ^12,000, 
and Governor Ames' check for ^250 was received. 

New Bedford, Mass., June ^. — Mayor Clifford 
has sent $500 to the sufferers. 

Providence, R. I., June /f. — A meeting of busi- 
ness men this morning raised ^4000 for the 
sufferers. 

Erie, Penn., June 4.. — In mass meeting last night 
ex-Congressman W. L. Scott led with a $1500 
subscription for Johnstown, followed by ex-Judge 
Galbraith with $500. The list footed up ^6000 in 
a quarter of an hour. Ward committees were 
appointed to raise it to ^10,000. In addition to a 
general subscription of ^1000, which was sent for- 
ward yesterday, it is rumored that a private gift 
of $5000 was also sent. 

Toledo, June 4. — Two thousand dollars have 
been obtained here for the flood sufferers. 



THE JOHNS TO IV N FLOOD. 275 

Cleveland, June zf. — Over ^16,000 was sub- 
scribed yesterday, which, added to the $5000 
raised on Sunday, swells Cleveland's cash con- 
tributions to ^21,000. Two car-loads of provisions 
and clothing and twenty-one car-loads of lumber 
went forward to Johnstown. 

Cincin7iati, June j. — Subscriptions amounting- 
to ^10,000 were taken on 'Change yesterday. 

Milwatckee, June /f., — State Grand Commander 
Weissert telegraphed ^250 to the Pennsylvania 
Department yesterday. 

Detroit, June J., — The relief fund already reaches 
nearly ^1000. Ex-Governor Alger and Senator 
James McMillan have each telegraphed $500 to 
the scene of the disaster. 

Chicago, yuiie 4. — A meeting of business m.en 
was held this morning to collect subscriptions. 
Several large subscriptions, including one of 
^1000 by Marshall Field & Co., were received. 
The committees expect to raise $50,000 within 
twenty- four hours. 

Governor Fifer has issued a proclamation 
urging the people to take measures for render- 
inof aid. The Aldermen of Chicas^o subscribed 
among themselves a purse of $1000. The jew- 
elers raised $1500. On the Board of Trade one 
member obtained $5000, and another $4000. 

From a citizens' meeting in Denver to-night 
^2500 was raised. 



276 THE JOHNS TO WN FL O OD. 

President Hughitt announces that the Chicago 
and Northwestern, the Chicago, St, Paul, Minne- 
apolis and Omaha, and the Fremont, Elkhorn and 
Missouri Valley Railways will transport, free of 
charge, all provisions and clothing for the sufferers. 

Kansas City, Mo., Jime j. — At the mass meet- 
ing last night a large sum was subscribed for the 
sufferers. 

Chattanooga, June j. — Chattanooga to-day sub- 
scribed $500. 

Wilmingtoji, Del., yune /j.. — Over ^2700 has 
been raised here for the sufferers. A carload of 
supplies was shipped last night. Two doctors 
have offered their services. 

Knoxville, Tenn., June 4. — The relief commit- 
tee to-day raised over $1500 in two hours for the 
sufferers in Johnstown and vicinity. 

Saratoga, June /f. — The village of Saratoga 
Springs has raised $2000. Judge Henry Hilton 
subscribed one-half the amount. A committee was 
appointed to-night to solicit additional subscrip- 
tions. 

Carlisle, Penn., June ^. — Aid for the sufferers 
has been pouring in from all sections of the Cum- 
berland Valley. From this city $700 and a sup- 
ply of clothing and provisions have been sent. 
Among the contributions to-day was $100 from 
the Indian children at the Government training 
school. 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 2 J J 

Charleston, S. C, June ^. — The City Council 
to-day voted ^looo for the rehef of the Pennsyl- 
vania sufferers. The Executive Committee of the 
Chamber of Commerce subscribed $380 in a few 
minutes, and appointed three committees to can- 
vass for subscriptions. The Merchants' Exchange 
is at work and general subscriptions are starting. 

St. Louis, yune ^. — Generous subscriptions for 
the Conemaugh Valley sufferers have been made 
here. The Merchants' Exchange has called a 
mass meeting- for to-morrow. 

Middletown, yune j.. — To-day the Mayor tele- 
graphed the Mayor of Johnstown to draw on him 
for ^1000. 

Poughkeepsie, yune /f. — Mayor Rowley to-day 
sent $1638 to Drexel & Co., Philadelphia. As 
much more was subscribed to-day. 

Auburn, y une ^. — Auburn has subscribed ^2000. 

Lockport, IsF. v., yune ^. — The Brewers' National 
Convention at Niagara Falls this morning con- 
tributed ^IO,OOOo 

St. yohnsbury,Vt., yune ^. — Grand Master Hen- 
derson issued an invitation to-day to Odd Fellows 
in Vermont to contribute toward the sufferers. 

Newburg, N. Y., yzme 5. — Newburg has raised 
about ^2000 for the sufferers. 

Worcester, Mass., yune 5. — Subscriptions to the 
amount of ^2400 were made here to-day. 

Boston, ytme 5. — The total of the subscriptions 



278 THE JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. 

received through Kidder, Peabody & Co. to-day 
amounted to $35,400. The Fall River Line will 
forward supplies free of charge. 

Providence, June 5. — The subscriptions here 
now exceed $1 1,000. 

Minneapolis, Jwte 5. — The Citizens' Committee 
to-day voted to send 2000 barrels of flour to the 
sufferers. 

Chicago, June 5. — It is estimated that Chicago's 
cash contributions to date aggregate about $90,- 
000. 

St. Louis, June 5. — The town of Desoto in this 
State has contributed $200. Litchfield, 111., has 
also raised $200. 

Los Angeles, Cal., June 5. — This city has for- 
warded $2000 to Governor Beaver. 

Macon, June 5. — The City Council last night 
appropriated $200 for the sufferers. 

Chattanooga, Ten7t.^ yune 5. — A, B. Forrest 
Camp, No. 3, Confederate Veterans, of Chatta- 
nooga, have contributed $100 to the relief fund. 
J. M. Duncan, general manager of the South 
Tredegar Iron Company, of this city, who a few 
years ago left Johnstown for Chattanooga as a 
young mechanic, sent $1000 to-day to the relief 
fund. Another $1000 will be sent from the pro- 
ceeds of a popular subscription. 

Savannah, yune 5. — The Savannah Benevolent 
Association subscribed $1000 for the sufferers. 



THE JOHNSTO WN FL OOD. 2 79 

Binghamton, Jtme 5. — More than ^2600 will 
be sent to Johnstown from this city. Lieutenant- 
Governor Jones telegraphed that he would sub- 
scribe ^100. 

Albany, June ^. — Mayor Maher has telegraphed 
the Mayor of Pittsburg to draw on him for ^3000. 
The fund being raised by The Morning Express 
amounts to over $1141. 

Lebanon, Penn., June 5.™This city will raise 
^5000 for the sufferers. 

Rochester, June 5. — Over ^400 was subscribed 
to the Red Cross relief fund to-day and ^i 19 to a 
newspaper fund besides, 

Cleveland, Jime 5. — The cash collected in this 
city up to this evening is ^38,000. Ten car-loads 
of merchandise were shipped to Johnstown to- 
day, and a special train of twenty-eight car-loads of 
lumber, from Cleveland dealers, left here to-night. 

Fonda, N. K, Jime 5, — The people of Johns- 
town, N. Y., instead of making an appropriation 
with which to celebrate the Fourth of July, will 
send ^1000 to the sufferers at Johnstown, Pa. 

New Haven, Jime 5. — -Over $2000 has been 
collected here. 

Wilmington, Del., ^ime 5. — This city's fund has 
reached $470. The second car-load of supplies 
will be shipped to-morrow. 

Glens Falls, N. Y,, Jttne 5. — Subscriptions here 
to-day amounted to ^622. 



2 8 O THE JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 

Poughkeepsie, June 5. — Up to this 
^2736 have been raised in this city for Johnstown. 

Washington, June 7. — The total cash contribu- 
tions of the employees of the Treasury Depart- 
ment to date, amounting to <^207o, were to-day 
handed to the treasurer of the Relief Fund of 
Washington. The officers and clerks of the sev- 
eral bureaus of the Interior Department have 
subscribed ^2280. The contributions in the Gov- 
ernment Printing Office aggregate ^1275. Chief 
Clerk Cooley to-day transmitted to the chairman 
of the local committee "^doo collected in the Post- 
office Department. 

Syractise, N. K, Jzme y. — Mayor Kirk to-day 
sent to Governor Beaver a draft for $3000. 

Utica, N. K, June 7. — Ilion has raised ^iioo, 
and has sent six cases of clothing to Johnstown. 

The Little Falls subscription is $700 thus far. 

The Utica subscription is now nearly ^6000. 

Thus the gifts of the people flowed in, day by 
day, from near and from far, from rich and from 
poor, to make less dark the awful desolation that 
had set up its fearful reign in the Valley of the 
Conemaugh. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE city of Philadelphia with characteristic 
generosity began the work of raising a 
relief fund on the day following the disaster, the 
Mayor's office and DrexePs banking house being 
the chief centres of receipt. Within four days 
six hundred thousand dollars was in hand. A 
most thorough organization and canvass of all 
trades and branches of business was made under 
the followino- committees : 

Machinery and Iron — George Burnham, Daniel A. Waters, 
William Sellers, W. B. Bement, Hamilton Disston, Walter 
Wood, J. Lowber Welsh, W. C. Allison, Charles Gilpin, Jr., 
E. Y. Townsend, Dawson Hoopes, Alvin S, Patterson, Charles 
H. Cramp, and John H. Brill. 

Attorneys — Mayer Sulzberger, George S. Graham, George 
W, Biddle, Lewis C. Cassidy, William F. Johnson, Joseph 
Parrish, Hampton L. Carson, John C. Bullitt, John R, Read, 
and Samuel B. Huey. 

Physicians — William Pepper, Horatio C. Wood, Thomas 
G. Morton, W. H. Pancoast, D. Hayes Agnew, and William 
W. Keen. 

Insurance — R.. Dale Benson, C. J. Madeira, E. J. Durban, 
and John Taylor. 

281 



282 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

Chemicals — William Weightman, H. B. Rosengarten, and 
John Wyeth. 

City Officers — John Bardsley, Henry Clay, Robert P. 
Dechert, S. Davis Page, and Judge R. N. Willson. 

Paper — A. G. Elliott, Whitney Paper Company, W. E. & 
E. D, Lockwood, Alexander Balfour, and the Nescochague 
Paper Manufacturing Company. 

Coal — Charles F. Berwind, Austin Corbin, Charles E. Bar- 
rington, and George B. Newton. 

Wool Dealers— W. W. Justice, David Scull, Coates Broth- 
ers, Lewis S. Fish & Co., and Theodore C. Search. 

Commercial Exchange — Walter F. Hagar and William 
Brice. 

Board of Trade — Frederick Fraley, T. Morris Perot, John 
H. Michener, and Joel Cook. 

Book Trade, Printing, and Newspapers — Charles Emory 
Smith, Walter Lippincott, A. K. McClure, Charles E. War- 
burton, Thomas MacKellar, William M. Singeriy, Charles 
Heber Clark, and William V. McKean. 

Furniture — Charles B. Adamson, Hale, Kilburn & Co., 
John H. Sanderson, and Amos Hillborn & Co, 

Bakers and Confectioners — Godfrey Keebler, Carl Edel- 
heim. Croft & Allen, and H, O. Wilbur & Sons. 

China, etc. — R. J. Allen, and Tyndale, Mitchell & Co. 

Lumber — Thomas P. C. Stokes, William M. Lloyd Com- 
pany, Henry Bayard & Co., Geissel & Richardson, and D. A. 
Woelpper. 

Cloth and Tailors' Trimmings — Edmund Lewis, Henry N. 
Steel, Joseph R. Keim, John Alburger, and Samuel Goodman. 

Notions, etc. — Joel J. Baily, John Field, Samuel Clarkson, 
John C. Sullivan, William Super, John C. File, and W. B. 
Hackenberg. 

Clothing — H. B. Blumenthal, William Allen, Leo Loeb, 
William H. Wanamaker, Alan H. Reed, Morris Newberger, 
Nathan Snellenburg, Samuel Goodman, and John Alburger. 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 2%% 

Dry Goods Manufacturers — Lincoln Godfrey, Lemuel 
Coffin, N. Parker Shortridge, and W.H. Folwell. 

Wholesale Dry Goods — Samuel B. Brown, John M. Howett, 
Henry H. Ellison, and Edward T. Steel. 

Retail Dry Goods — Joseph G. Darlington, Isaac H. 
Clothier, Granville B. Haines, and Henry W. Sharpless. 

Jewelers — Mr. Bailey, of Bailey, Banks & Biddle ; James 
E. Caldwell, and Simon Muhr. 

Straw Goods, Hats, and Millinery — John Adler, C. H. 
Garden & Co., and Henry Tilge. 

City Railways — Alexander M. Fox, William H. Kemble, 
E. B. Edwards, John F. Sullivan, and Charles E. Ellis. 

Photography — F. Gutekunst, A. K. P. Trask, and H. C. 
Phillips. 

Pianos and Musical — W. D. Dutton, Schomacker Piano 
Company, and C. J, Heppe. 

Plumbers — William Harkness, Jr., J. Futhey Smith, C. A. 
Blessing, and Henry B. Tatham. 

Liquors and Brewers — Joseph F. Sinnott, Bergner h. Engel, 
John Gardiner, and John F. Betz. 

Hotels — E. F. Kingsley, Thomas Green, L. U. Maltby, 
C. H. Reisser, and H. J. Crump. 

Butchers — Frank Bower and Shuster Boraef. 

Woolen Manufacturers — William Wood, George Campbell, 
Joseph P. Truitt, and John C. Watt. 

Retail Grocers — George B. Woodman, George A. Fletcher, 
Robert Ralston, H. B. Summers, and E. J. Howlett. 

Boots and Shoes — John Mundell, John G. Croxton, Henry 
Z. Ziegler, and A. A. Shumway. 

Theatrical — J. Fred. Zimmerman, Israel Fleishman, and 
T. F. Kelly. 

Tobacco Trade — M. J. Dohan, L. Bamberger, E. H. 
Frishmuth, Jr., Walter Garrett, M. E. McDowell, J. H. 
Baltz, Henry Weiner, and George W. Bremer. 

Hosiery Manufactures — J. B. Allen and James B. Doak, Jr. 



284 ^-^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

Real Estate — Adam Everly, John M, Gummey, and 
Lewis H. Redner. 

Cordage— E. H. Fitler, John T. Bailey, and Charles 
Lawrence. 

Patent Pavement — Dr. L. S. Filbert and James Stewart, 
Jr. 

Bankers and Brokers — Winthrop Smith, Robert H. Glen- 
denning, George H. Thomas, William G. Warden, Lindley 
Smyth, Thomas Cochran, J. L. Erringer, Charles H. Banes, 
Wharton Barker, and Jacob Naylor. 

Wholesale Grocers and Sugar Refiners — Francis B. 
Reeves, Edward C. Knight, Adolph Spreckels, William 
Janney, and Charles C. Harrison. 

Shirt Manufacturers and Dealers — Samuel Sternberger and 
Jacob Miller. 

Carpets — James Dobson, Robert Dornan, Hugh McCallum, 
John F. Orne, John R. White, and Thomas Potter, Jr. 

Saddlery Hardware, etc. — William T. Lloyd, of Lloyd & 
Supplee; Conrad B. Day, George DeB. Keim, Charles 
Thackara,John C. Cornelius, William Elkins, Jr., and James 
Peters. 

By Tuesday the tide of relief was flowing 
strongly. On that day between eight and nine 
thousand packages of goods were sent to the 
freight depot of the Pennsylvania Railroad, to be 
forwarded to the sufferers. Waeons came in 
an apparently endless stream^and the quantity of 
goods received far exceeded that of any previous 
day. Eight freight cars, tightly packed, were 
shipped to Johnstown, while five car-loads of pro- 
visions were sent to Willlamsport, and one of pro- 
visions to Lewistown. 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 28 S 

The largest consignment of goods from an 
individual was sent to Williamsport by W. M. 
McCormick. He was formerly a resident of Wil- 
liamsport, and when he heard that the people of 
that city were suffering for want of provisions, he 
immediately went out and ordered a car-load of 
flour (one hundred and twenty-five barrels) and 
a car-load of groceries and provisions, consisting 
of dried and smoked meats, sugar, crackers, and 
a laree assortment of other necessaries. Mr. 
McCormick said he thought that several of his 
friends would go in with him when they knew of 
the venture, but if they did not he would foot all 
the bills himself. 

The saddest incident of the day was the visit of 
a handsome young lady, about twenty-three years 
of age. She was accompanied by an older lady, 
and brought three packages of clothing. It was 
Miss Clydia Blackford, whose home was in Johns- 
town. She said sobbingly that every one of her 
relatives and friends had been lost in the floods, 
and her home entirely wiped out. The gift of the 
packages to the sufferers of her old home seemed 
to give her a sort of sad pleasure. She departed 
with tears in her eyes. 

When the convicts in the Eastern Penitentiary 
learned of the disaster through the weekly papers 
which arrived on Wednesday and Thursday — the 
only papers they are allowed to receive — a thing 



286 ^-^-^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

that will seem inconofruous to the outside world 
happened. The criminal, alone in his cell, was 
touched with the same sympathy and desire to 
help fellow-men in sore distress as the good peo- 
ple who have been filling relief depots with sup- 
plies and coffers with money. Each as he read 
the story of the flood would knock on his wicket 
and tell the keeper he wanted to give some of his 
money. 

The convicts, by working over and above their 
daily task, are allowed small pay for the extra 
time. Half the money so earned goes to the 
county from which the convict comes and half to 
the convict himself. The maximum amount a 
Cherry Hill inmate can make in a week for him- 
self is one dollar. 

The keepers told Warden Cassidy of the desire 
expressed all along that the authorities receive 
their contributions. The convicts can do what 
they please with their over-time money, by sending 
It to their friends, and several had already sent 
small sums out of the Penitentiary to be given to 
the Johnstown sufferers. The warden very promptly 
acceded to the general desire and gave the 
keepers Instructions. There are about one thou- 
sand one hundred and ten men imprisoned in the 
Institution, and of this number one hundred and 
forty-six persons gave five hundred and forty-two 
dollars and ninety-six cents. It would take one 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 287 

convict working all his extra time ten years to 
earn that sum. 

There was one old man, a cripple, who had fif- 
teen dollars to his credit. He said to the keeper: 
" I've been doing crooked work nearly all my life, 
and I want to do something square this time. I 
want to give all the money coming to me for 
these fellers out there." The warden, however, 
had made a rule prohibiting any individual from 
contributing more than five dollars. The old man 
was told this, but he was determined. "Look 
here," said he ; " I'll send the rest of my money 
out to my folks and tell them to send it," 

Chief of Police Mayer, in denying reports that 
there was an influx of professional thieves into the 
flooded regions to rob the dead, said: "The 
thieves wouldn't do anything like that ; there is 
too much of the gentleman in them." But here 
were thieves and criminals going into their own 
purses out of that same " gentlemanly " part of 
them. 

Up to Saturday, June 8th, the cash contri- 
butions in Philadelphia, amounted to %6Z'],Z']2,6Z. 
Meantime countless gifts and expressions of sym- 
pathy came from all over the world. The Lord 
Mayor of Dublin, Ireland, raised a fui d of 
^5,000. Archbishop Walsh gave $500. 

Sir Julian Pauncefote, the British Minister at 
Washington, called on the President on June 7th, 



288 ^-^-^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

in company with Secretary Blaine, and delivered 
a message from Queen Victoria expressing her 
deep sympathy for the sufferers by the recent 
floods in Pennsylvania. The President said in 
reply : 

" Mr. Minister : This message of sympathy 
from Her Majesty the Queen will be accepted by 
our people as another expression of her own 
generous character, as well as of the friendliness 
and good-will of her people. The disasters 
which have fallen upon several communities in the 
State of Pennsylvania, while extreme and full of 
the most tragic and horrifying incidents, have for- 
tunately been limited in territorial extent. The 
generosity of our own citizens will promptly 
lessen to these stricken people every loss that is 
not wholly irretrievable ; and these the sympathy 
of the Queen and the English people will help to 
assuage. Will you, Mr. Minister, be pleased to 
convey to the Queen the sincere thanks of the 
American people." 

A newspaper correspondent called upon the 
illustrious Miss Florence Nightingale, at her 
home in London, and asked her to send a m.es- 
sao-e to America reeardinof the floods. In re- 
sponse, she wrote : 

" I am afraid that I cannot write such a mes- 
sage as I would wish to just at this moment. I 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. jQI 

am so overdone. I have the deepest sympathy 
with the poor sufferers by the floods, and with 
Miss Clara Barton, of the Red Cross Societies, 
and the Qfood women who are hastenin^y to their 
help, I am so overworked and ill that I can feel 
all the more but write all the less for the crying 
necessity. 

(Signed) " Florence Nightingale." 

Though Miss Nightingale is sixty-nine years old, 
and an invalid, this note was written in a hand indi- 
cating all the strength and vigor of a schoolgirl. 
She is seldom able to ofo out now, thoucrh when 
she can she dearly loves to visit the Nightingale 
Home for Training Nurses, which constitutes such 
an enduringf monument and noble record of her 
life. But, thouofh in feeble health, MissNig^htino-ale 
manages to do a great deal of work yet. From all 
parts of the world letters pour in upon her, ask- 
ing advice and suggestions on matters of hospital 
manaofement, of health and of education, all of 
which she seldom fails to answer. 

Last, but not least, let it be recorded that the 
members of the club that owned the fatal lake sent 
promptly a thousand blankets and many thou- 
sands of dollars to the sufferers from the floods, 
which had been caused by their own lack of proper 
supervision of the dam. 

17 



CHAPTER XXV. 

N"EW YORK, Philadelphia, and Pittsburg 
were, of course, the three chief centres of 
charitable contributions, and the sources from 
which the golden flood of relief was poured into 
the devastated valley. One of the earliest gifts 
in New York city was that of $1,200, the pro- 
ceeds of a collection taken on Sunday morning, 
June 2d, in the West Presbyterian Church, after 
an appeal by the Rev. Dr. John R. Paxton, the 
pastor. The next day a meeting of prominent 
New York business men was held at the Mayor's 
office, and a relief committee was formed. At this 
meeting many contributions were announced. 
Isidor Wormser said that the Produce Exchange 
had raised $15,000 for the sufferers. Ex-Mayor 
Grace reported that the Lackawanna Coal and 
Iron Company had telegraphed the Cambria Iron 
Company to draw upon it for $5,000 for the 
relief of the Cambria's employees. Mayor Grant 
announced that he had received letters and checks 
during the forenoon aggregating the sum of 
292 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 20% 

^15,000, and added his own for $500. Subscrip- 
tions of ^1,000 each were offered as fast as the 
Secretary could record them by Kuhn, Loeb & 
Co., Jesse Seligman, Calvin S. Brice, Winslow, 
Lanier & Co., Morris K. Jesup, Oswald Otten- 
dorfer, R. H. Macy & Co., M. Schiff & Co., and 
O. B. Potter. Sums of $500 were subscribed 
with equal cheerfulness by Eugene Kelly, Sidney 
Dillon, the Chatham National Bank, Controller 
Myers, Cooper, Hewitt & Co., Frederick Gallatin, 
Teftt, Weller & Co., City Chamberlain Croker, 
and Tiffany & Co. Numerous gifts of less sums 
quickly followed. Elliott F. Shepard announced 
that the Mail and Express had already sent 
^10,000 to Johnstown. Before the Committee on 
Permanent Organization had time to report, the 
Secretary gave out the information that ^27,000 
had been subscribed since the meeting was called 
to order. Before the day was over no less than 
^75,000 had been received at the Mayor's office, 
including the following subscriptions: 

Pennsylvania Relief Committee of the Maritime Associa- 
tion of the Port of Nevr York, Gustav H. Schwab, Treasurer, 
^3,435; Chatham National Bank, ^5003 Morris K. Jesup, 
^1,000; William Steinway, ^1,000; Theodore W. Myers, 
^500; J. G. Moore, ^1,000; J. W. Gerard, $200; Piatt & 
Bowers, ^250; Henry L. Hoguet, ^100 ; Harry Miner, ^200; 
Tefft, Weller & Co., ^5003 Louis May, ^200; Madison 
Square Bank, 1 200; Richard Croker, ^500; Tiffany & Co., 
J500; John Fox, ;^200j Jacob H. Schiff, |i,ooo; Nash & 



294 



Tim JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



Brush, ^100 : Oswald Ottendorfer, ^i,ooo; William P. St. 
John, $ioo ; George Hoadly, for Hoadly, Lauterbach & John- 
son, ^250; Edwin Forrest Lodge, Order of Friendship, ^200; 
W. T. Sherman, ^100; W. L. Stone, $500; John R. Dos 
Passos, ^250; G. G, Williams, $100; Coudert Bros., ^250; 
Staats-Zeitung, ^r,i66; Cooper, Hewitt & Co., ;^5oo; Fred- 
erick Gallatin, ^500 ; R. H. Macy & Co., ^1,000 ; Mr. Cald- 
well, ^100; C.N. Bliss, ^500; Ward & Olyphant, $100; 
Eugene Kelly, ;^5oo'; Lackawanna Coal and Iron Company, 
through Mayor Grace, ^5,000; W. R. Grace, ^500; G. 
Schwab & Bros., ^300; Kuhn, Loeb & Co., $1,000 ; Central 
Trust Co., $1,000; Calvin S. Brice, $1,000; J. S. Seligman 
& Co., $1,000; Sidney Dillon, $500; Winslow, Lanier & 
Co., $1,000; Hugh J. Grant, $500; Orlando B. Potter, 
$1,000. 

Through The TrtInine,$T^ig.']'^; through 77/^ ^Sw/z, $87.50; 
from Tammany Society, through Richard Croker, $1,000; 
Joseph Pulitzer, $2,000; Lazard Freres, $1,000; Arnold, 
Constable & Co., $1,000 ; D. H. King, Jr., $1,000 ; August 
Belmont & Co., $1,000; New York Life Insurance Co., 
$500; John D. Crimmins, $500; Nathan Manufacturing Co., 
$500; Hugh N. Camp, $250; National Railway Publishing 
Co., $200; William Openhym & Sons, $200; New York 
Transfer Co., $200 ; Warner Brothers, $100 ; L. J. and I. 
Phillips, $100; John Davel & Sons, $100; Hoole Manufac- 
turing Co., $100 ; Hendricks Brothers, $100; Rice & Bijur, 
$100; C. A. AufFmordt, $100; Thomas C, T. Grain, $100; 
J. J. Wysong & Co., $100; Megroz, Portier, & Meg- 
roz & Co., $100; Foster, Paul & Co., $100; S. Stein 
& Co., $100; James McCreery & Co., $100; Lazell, 
Dalley & Co., $100; George W. Walling, $roo; Thomas 
Garnei & Co , $100; John Simpson, $ioo; W. H. Schiefifelin 
& Co., $TOo; through A. Schwab, $1,400; H. C. F. Koch 
& Co., $100; George T. Hoadly, $250; G. Sidenburg & 
Co., $100; Ward & Oliphant, $100; Robert Bonner, $1,000; 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



295 



Horace White, ^100 ; A. H. Cridge, $250 ; Edward Shriever, 
^300; C. H. Ludington, $100; Gamevvell Fire Alarm Tele- 
graph Company of New York, ^200; Warner Brothers, ;^ioo; 
New York 7}>//,fj- (cash), $100; cash items, ^321.20; Ben- 
nett Building, I105. 

Shortly after the opening of the New York 
Stock Exchange a subscription was started for the 
benefit of the Johnstown sufferers. The Govern- 
Inof Committee of the Exchano^e made Albert 
King treasurer of the Exchange Relief Fund, and, 
although many leading members were absent 
from the floor, as is usual on Monday at this sea- 
son of the year, the handsome sum of ^14,520 
was contributed by the brokers present at the 
close of business. Among the subscriptions re- 
ceived were : 

Vermilye & Co., ^1,000; Moore & Schley, $1,0005 L. 
Von Hoffman & Co., $500; N. S. Jones, $500; Speyer & 
Co., $500; Homans & Co., $500; Work, Strong & Co., 
$250 ; Washington E. Connor, $250 ; Van Emberg & Atter- 
bury, $250; Simon Borg & Co., $250; Chauncey & Gwynne 
Bros., ^250; John D. Slayback, $250; Woerishoffer & Co., 
^250; S. V. White, $250; I. & S. Wormser, ^250; Henry 
Clevvs & Co., $250; Ladenberg, Thalmann & Co., $250; 
John H. Davis & Co., ;^20o; Jones, Kennett & Hopkins, 
$200; H. B. Goldschmidt, $200; other subscriptions, 
$7,170. 

Generosity rose higher still on Tuesday. Early 
in the day ^5,000 was received by cable from 
the London Stock Exchange. John S. Kennedy 



2 g 5 THE yOHNSTO WN FL OD. 

also sent $5,000 from London. John Jacob Astor 
subscribed $2,500 and William Astor $1,000. 
Other contributions received at the Mayor's office 
were these : 

Archbishop Corrigan, ^250 ; Straiten & Storm, ^250; Bliss, 
Fabyan & Co., ;^5oo; Funk & Wagnalls, ^100 ; Nathan 
Straus, ^1,000; Sidney Dillon, $500; Winslow, Lanier & 
Co., ^1,000 ; Henry Hilton, $5,000 ; R. J. Livingston, 
;^i,ooo ; Peter Marie, ;^ioo ; The Dick & Meyer Co., Wm. 
Dick, President, $r,ooo ; Decastro & Donner Sugar Refining 
Co., |i,ooo; Havemeyers & Elder Sugar Refining Co., 
;g 1,000 ; Frederick Gallatin, $500 ; Continental National 
Bank, from Directors, $1,000 ; F. O. Mattiessen& Wiechers' 
Sugar Refining Co., $1,000 ; Phelps, Dodge & Co., $2,500 ; 
Knickerbocker Ice Co., $1,000 ; First National Bank, $1,000; 
Apollinaris Water Co., London, $1,000 ; W. & J. Sloane, 
$1,000; Tefi"t, Weller & Co., $500 ; New York Stock Ex- 
change, $20,000 ; Board of Trade, $1,000 ; Central Trust 
Co., $1,000 ; Samuel Sloan, $200. 

The following contributions were made in ten 
minutes at a special meeting of the Chamber of 
Commerce : 

Brown Brothers & Co., $2,500 ; Morton, Bliss & Co., 
$1,000 ; H. B. Claflin & Co., $2,000; Percy R. Pyne, $1,000; 
Fourth National Bank, $1,000 ; E. D. Morgan & Co., 
$1,000 ; C. S. Smith, $500 ; J. M. Ceballas, $500 ; Barbour 
Brothers & Co., $500 ; Naumberg, Kraus & Co., $500 ; Thos. 
F. Rowland, $500 ; Bliss, Fabyan & Co., $500 ; William H. 
Parsons & Co., $250 ; Smith, Hogg & Gardner, $250 ; Doe- 
run Lead Company, $250 ; A. R. Whitney & Co., $250 ; 
Williams & Peters, $100 ; Joy, Langdon & Co., $250 ; B. L. 
Solomon's Sons, $100 ; D. F. Hiernan, $100; A. S. Rosen- 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



297 



baum, ^100 ; Henry Rice, |ioo ; Parsons & Petitt, ^100 ; 
Thomas H. Wood & Co., ^100 ; T. B. Coddington, ^100 ; 
John I. Howe, ^50 ; John Bigelow, $50 ; Morrison, Herri- 
man & Co., ^250 ; Frederick Sturges, ^250 ; James O. Car- 
penter, $50 ; C. H. Mallory, 1^500 ; George A. Low, $25 ; 
Henry W. T. Mali & Co., ^500 ; C. Adolph Low, ^50 j C. C. 
Peck, $20. Total, ^15, 295. 

Thousands of dollars also came In from the 
Produce Exchange, Cotton Exchange, Metal Ex- 
change, Coffee Exchange, Real Estate Exchange, 
etc. The Adams Express Co. gave ^5,000, and 
free carrlao-e of all croods for the sufferers. The 
Mutual Life Insurance Co., gave ^10,000. And 
so all the week the gifts were made. Jay Gould, 
gave ^1,000; the Jewish Temple Emanuel, 
^1,500; The Hide and Leather Trade, ^5,000; 
the Commercial Cable Co., $500 ; the Ancient 
Order of Hibernians, $270; J. B. & J. H. Cor- 
nell, ^1,000; the New York Health Department, 
^500 ; Chatham National Bank, $500 ; the boys 
of the House of Refuge on Randall's Island, 
$258.22. Many gifts came from other towns and 
cities. 

Kansas City, $12,000 ; Cincinnati Chamber of Commerce, 
$22,106; Washington Post Office, $600 ; Boston, $94,000; 
AVillard (N. Y.) Asylum for Insane, $136; Washington 
Government Printing Office, $1,275 ; Saugerties N. Y., $850; 
Ithaca, N. Y., $1,600 ; Cornell University, $1,100; White- 
hall, N. Y., $600 ; Washington Interior Department, 
$2,280; Schenectady, N. Y., $3,000; Albany, $10,500; 



2q3 the JOHNSTOWN flood. 

Washington Treasury Department, ^2,070; Augusta, Ga., 
;^i,ooo; Charleston, S. C, ^3,500; Utica, N. Y., |6,ooo; 
Little Falls, N. Y., $700; Ilion, N. Y., $1,100; Trenton, 
N. J., ;^i2,oooj Cambridge, Mass., $3,500; Haverhill, 
Mass., $1,500; Lawrence, Mass., $5,000; Salem, Mass., 
$r,ooo; Taunton, Mass., $1,010; New London, Conn., 
$1,120; Newburyport, Mass., $1,500. 

No attempt has been made above to give any- 
thing more than a few random and representative 
names of givers. The entire roll would fill a 
volume. By the end of the week the cash con- 
tributions in New York city amounted to more 
than ^600,000. Collections in churches on Sun- 
day, June 9th, aggregated ^15,000 more. Benefit 
performances at the theatres the next week 
brought up the grand total to about ^700,000. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

AND now begins the task of burying the dead 
and caring for the living. It is Wednesday 
morning. Scarcely has daylight broken before a 
thousand funerals are in progress on the green hill- 
sides. There were no hearses, few mourners, and 
as litde solemnity as formality. The majority of 
the cofhns were of rough pine. The pall-bearers 
were strong ox-teams, and instead of six pall- 
bearers to one coffin, there were generally six 
coffins to one-team. Silently the processions 
moved, and silendy they unloaded their burdens 
in the lap of mother earth. No minister of God 
was there to pronounce a last blessing as the 
clods rattled down, except a few faithful priests 
who had followed some representatives of their 
faith to the crrave. 

All day long the corpses were being hurried 
below ground. The unidentified bodies were 
grouped on a high hill west of the doomed city, 
where one epitaph must do for all, and that the 
word " unknown." 

299 



^QQ THE yOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

Almost every stroke of the pick in some por- 
tions of the city resuhed in the discovery of an- 
other victim, and, although the funerals of the 
morning relieved the morgues of their crush, 
before night they were as full of the dead as ever. 
Wherever one turns the melancholy view of a 
coffin is met. Every train into Johnstown was 
laden with them, the better ones being generally 
accompanied by friends of the dead. Men could 
be seen staggering over the ruins with shining 
mahogany caskets on their shoulders. 

In the midst of this scene of death and deso- 
lation a relentinof Providence seems to be exert- 
ing a subduing influence. Six days have elapsed 
since the great disaster, and the temperature still 
remains low and chilly in the Conemaugh valley. 
When it Is remembered that in the ordinary June 
weather of this locality from two to three days 
are sufficient to bring an unattended body to a 
degree of decay and putrefaction that would 
render it almost impossible to prevent the spread 
of disease throughout the valley, the Inestimable 
benefits of this cool weather are almost beyond 
appreciation. • 

The first body taken from the ruins was that of 
a boy, Willie Davis, who was found In the debris 
near the bridge. He was badly bruised and 
burned. The remains were taken to the under- 
taking rooms at the Pennsylvania Railroad 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. -qj 

Station, where they were identified. The boy's 
mother has been making a tour of the different 
morgues for the past few days, and was just going 
througfh the undertaking rooms when she saw the 
remains of her boy being brought in. She ran 
up to the body and demanded it. She seemed to 
have lost her mind, and caused quite a scene by 
her actions. She said that she had lost her hus- 
band and six children in the flood, and that this 
was the first one of the family that had been re- 
covered. The bodies of a little girl named 
Bracken and of Theresa and Katie Downs of 
Clinton Street were taken out near where the re- 
mains of Willie Davis were found. 

Two hundred experienced men with dynamite, 
a portable crane, a locomotive, and half a dozen 
other appliances for pulling, hauling, and lifting, 
toiled all of Wednesd-a)^ at the sixty-acre mass of 
debris that lies above the Pennsylvania Railroad 
bridge at Johnstown. " As a result," wrote a 
correspondent, " there is visible, just in front of 
the central arch, a little patch of muddy water 
about seventy-five feet long by thirty wide. Two 
smaller patches are in front of the two arches on 
each side of this one, but both together would not 
be heeded were they not looked for especially. 
Indeed, the whole effect of the work yet done 
would not be noticed by a person who had never 
seen the wreck before. The solidity of the wreck 



302 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 



and the manner in which it is interlaced and locked 
together exceeds the expectations of even those 
who had examined the wreck carefully, and the 
men who thought that with dynamite the mass 
could be removed in a week, now do not think the 
work can be done in twice this time. The work is in 
charge of Arthur Kirk, a Pittsburg contractor. 
Dynamite is depended upon for loosening the 
mass, but it has to be used in small charges for 
fear of damaging the bridge, which, at this time, 
would be another disaster for the town. As it is, 
the south abutment has been broken a httle by 
the explosions. 

"After a charge of dynamite had shaken up a 
portion of the wreck in front of the middle arch, 
men went to work with long poles, crowbars, axes, 
saws, and spades. All the loose pieces that could 
be o-ot out were thrown into the water under the 
bridge, and then, beginning at the edges, the bits 
of wreck were pulled, pushed and cut out, 
and sent floating away. At first the work of an 
hour was hardly perceptible, but each fresh log of 
timber pulled out loosened others and made bet- 
ter progress possible. When the space beneath 
the arch was cleared, and a channel thus made 
through which the debris could be floated off, a 
huge portable crane, built on a flat-car and made 
for raising locomotives and cars, was run upon 
the bridge over the arch and fastened to the track 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. oq^ 

with heavy chains. A locomotive was furnished 
to pull the rope, instead of the usual winch with 
a crank handle. A rope from the crane was fas- 
tened by chains or grapnels to a log, and then 
the locomotive pulled. About once in five times 
the log came out. Other times the chain slipped 
or something else made the attempt a failure. 
Whenever a big stick came out men with pikes 
pushed off all the other loosened debris that they 
could oret at. Other men shoveled off the dirt and 
ashes which cover the raft so thickly that it is 
almost as solid as the ground. 

" When a ten-foot square opening had been 
.:iade back on the arch, the current could be seen 
gushing up like a great spring from below, show- 
ing that there was a large body of it being held 
clown there by the weight of the debris. The 
current through the arch became so strong that 
the heaviest pieces in the wreck were carried off 
readily once they got within its reach. One reason 
for this is that laborers are filling up the gaps on 
the railroad embankment approaching the bridge 
in the north, through which the river had made 
itself a new bed, and the water thus dammed back 
has to go through or under the raft and out by 
the bridge-arches. This both buoys up the whole 
mass and provides a means of carrying off the 
wooden part of the debris as fast as it can be 
loosened. 



204 ^-^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

" Meanwhile an attack on the raft was belnsf 
made through the adjoining arch in another way. 
A heavy winch was set up on a small island in the 
river seventy-five yards below the bridge, and 
ropes run from this were hitched to heavy timbers 
in the raft, and then pulled out by workmen at the 
winch. A beginning for a second opening in the 
raft was made in this way. One man had some 
bones broken and was otherwise hurt by the slip- 
ping of the handle while he was at work at the 
winch this afternoon. The whole work is danger- 
ous for the men. There is twenty feet of swift 
water for them to slip Into, and timbers weighing 
tons are swinging about In unexpected directions 
to crush them. 

" So far it is not known that any bodies have 
been brought out of the debris by this work of 
removal, though many logs have been loosened 
and sent off down the river beneath the water 
without being seen. There will probably be more 
bodies back toward the centre of the raft than at 
the bridge, for of those that came there many 
were swept over the top. Some went over the 
arches and a great many were rescued from the 
bridge and shore. People are satisfied now that 
dynamite is the only thing that can possibly re- 
move the wreck and that as It Is belno- used it Is 
not likely to mangle bodies that may be in the 
debris any more than would any other means of 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ^05 

removing it. There are no more protests heard 



agamst its use. 



Bodies continue to be dug out of the wreck in 
the central portion all day. A dozen or so had 
been recovered up to nightfall, all hideousl}^ 
burned and mangled. In spite of all the water 
that has been thrown upon it by fire engines and 
all the rain that has fallen, the debris is still 
smouldering in many spots. 

Work was begun in dead earnest on Wednes- 
day on the Cambria Iron Works buildings. The 
Cambria people gave out the absurd statement 
that their loss will not exceed ^100,000. It 
will certainly take this amount to clean the works 
of the debris, to say nothing of repairing them. 
The buildings are nearly a score in number, some 
of them of enormous size, and they extend along 
the Conemaugh River for half a mile, over a 
quarter of a mile in width. Their lonely chim- 
neys, stretching high out of the slate roofs above 
the brick walls, make them look not unlike a man- 
of-war of tremendous size. The buildings on the 
western end of the row are not damaged a great 
deal, though the torrent rolled through them, 
turning the machinery topsy-turvy ; but the build- 
ings on the eastern end, which received the full 
force of the flood, fared badly. The eastern ends 
are utterly gone, the roofs bent over and smashed 
in, the chimneys flattened, the walls cracked and 
broken, and, in some cases, smashed entirely. 



2o6 "^^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

Most of the buildino-s are filled with drift. The 
workmen, who have clambered over the piles of 
logs and heavy drift washed In front of the build- 
ings and inside, say that they do not believe that 
the machinery In the mills is damaged very much, 
and that the main loss will fall on the mills them- 
selves. Half a million may cover the loss of the 
Cambria people, but this Is a rather low estimate. 
They have nine hundred men t work getting things 
In shape, and the manner In which they have had to 
go to work Illustrates the force with which the 
flood acted. The trees jammed in and before the 
buildings were so big and so solidly wedged In 
their places that no force of men could pull them 
out, and temporary railroad tracks were built up 
to the mass of debris. Then one of the engines 
backed down from the Pennsylvania Railroad 
yards, and the workmen, by persistent effort, man- 
aged to get big chains around parts of the drift. 
These chains were attached to the engine, which 
rolled off puffing mightily, and In this way the 
mass of drift was pulled apart. Then the laborers 
gathered up the loosened material, heaped It in 
piles a distance from the buildings, and burned 
them. Sometimes two engines had to be attached 
to some of the trees to pull them out, and there 
are many trees which cannot be extricated In this 
manner. They will have to be sawed Into parts, 
and these parts lugged away by the engines. 



CHAPTER XXVIT. 

UPON a pretty little plateau two hundred 
feet above the waters of Stony Creek, and 
directly in front of a slender foot-bridge which 
leads into Kernsville, stands a group of tents 
which represents the first effort of any national 
organization to give material sanitary aid to the 
unhappy survivors of Johnstown. 

It is the camp of the American National Asso- 
ciation of the Red Cross, and is under the direc- 
tion of that noble woman. Miss Clara Barton of 
Washington, the President of the organization in 
this country. The camp is not more than a quar- 
ter of a mile from the scene of operations in this 
place, and, should pestilence attend upon the 
horrors of the flood, this assembly of trained nurses 
and veteran physicians will be known all over the 
land. That an epidemic of some sort will come, 
there seems to be no question. The only thing 
which can avert it is a succession of cool days, a 
possibility which is very remote. 

Miss Barton, as soon as she heard of the catas- 
i8 309 



3IO 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



trophe, started preparations for opening head- 
quarters in this place. By Saturday morning she 
had secured a staff, tents, supplies, and all the 
necessary appurtenances of her work, and at once 
started on the Baltimore and Ohio Road. She 
arrived here on Tuesday morning, and pitched 
her tents near Stony Creek. This was, however, 
a temporary choice, for soon she removed her 
camp to the plateau upon which it will remain 
until all need for Miss Barton will have passed. 
With her <:ame Dr. John B. Hubbell, field agent ; 
Miss M. L. White, stenographer ; Gustave Ang- 
erstein, messenger, and a corps of fifteen physi- 
cians and four trained female nurses, under the 
direction of Dr. O'Neill, of Philadelphia. 

Upon their arrival they at once established 
quartermaster and kitchen departments, and in 
less than three hours these divisions were fully 
equipped fOr work. Then when the camp was 
formally opened on the plateau there were one 
large hospital tent, capable of accommodating 
forty persons, four smaller tents to give aid to 
twenty persons each, and four still smaller ones 
which will hold ten patients each. Then Miss 
Barton organized a house-to-house canvass by 
her corps of doctors, and began to show results 
almost immediately. 

The first part of the district visited was Kerns- 
ville. There great want and much suffering were 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. y I 

discovered and prompdy relieved. Miss Barton 
says that in most of the houses which were visited 
were several persons suffering from nervous pros- 
tration in the most aggravated form, many cases 
of temporary insanity being discovered, which, if 
neglected, would assume chronic conditions. 
There were a large number of persons, too, who 
were bruised by their battling on the borders of 
the flood, and were either ignorant or too broken- 
spirited to endeavor to aid themselves in any par- 
ticular. The majority of these were not suffi- 
ciently seriously hurt to require removal from their 
homes to the camp, and so were given medicines 
and practical, intelligent advice how to use them. 
There were fifteen persons, however, who were 
removed from Kernsville and from a district 
known as the Brewery, on the extreme east of 
Johnstown. Three of the number were women 
and were sadly bruised. One man, Caspar 
Walthaman, a German operative at the Cambria 
Iron Works, was the most interesting of all. He 
lived in a little frame house within fifty yards of 
the brewery. When the flood came his house was 
lifted from its foundations and was tossed about 
like a feather in a gale, until it reached a spot 
about on a line with Washington Street. There 
the man's life was saved by a great drift, which 
completely surrounded the house, and which 
forced the structure against the Prospect Hill 



^ J 2 THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 

shore, where the shock wrecked it. Walthaman 
was sent flying through the air, and landed on his 
right side on the water-soaked turf. Fortunately 
the turf was soft and springy with the moisture, 
and Walthaman had enough consciousness left to 
crawl up the hillside, and then sank into uncon- 
sciousness. 

At ten o'clock Saturday morning some friends 
found him. He was taken to their home in Kerns- 
ville. He was scarcely conscious when found, and 
before he had been in a place of safety an hour he 
had lost his mind, the reaction was so great. His 
hair had turned quite white, and the places where 
before the disaster his hair had been most abund- 
ant, on the sides of his head, were completely de- 
nuded of it. His scalp was as smooth as an 
apple-cheek. The physicians who removed him 
to the Red Cross Hospital declared the case as 
the most extraordinary one resulting from fright 
that had ever come under their observation. Miss 
Barton declares her belief that not one of the per- 
sons who are now under treatment is seriously in- 
jured, and is confident they will recover in a few 
days. 

Her staff was reinforced by Mrs. and Dr. Gard- 
ner, of Bedford, who, during the last great West- 
ern floods, rendered most excellent assistance to 
the sufferers. Both are members of the Relief 
Association. The squad of physicians and nurses 



THE "JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. o i ^ 

was further added to by more from Philadel- 
phia, and then Miss Barton thought she was pre- 
pared to cope with anything in the way of sick- 
ness which mio^ht arise. 

The appearance of the tents and the surround- 
ings are exceedingly inviting. Everything is ex- 
quisitely neat, the boards of the tent-floors being 
almost as white as the snowy linen of the cots. 
This contrast to the horrible filth of the town, 
with its fearful stenches and its dead-paved streets, 
is so invigorating that it has become a place of re- 
fuge to all who are compelled to remain here. 

The hospital is an old rink on the Bedford pike, 
which has been transformed into an inviting re- 
treat. Upon entering the door -the visitor finds 
himself in a small ante-room, to one side of which 
is attached the general consultIna--room. On the 
other side, opposite the hall, is the apothecary's 
department, where the prescriptions are filled as 
carefully as they would be at a first-class drug- 
gist's. In the rear of the medical department and 
of the general consultation-room are the wards. 
There are two of them — one for males and the 
other for females. A long, high, heavy curtain 
divides the wards, and insures as much privacy as 
the most modest person would wish. Around the 
walls in both wards are ranged the regulation 
hospital beds, with plenty of clean and comfort- 
able bed- clothes. 



ojj^ THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

Patients in the hospital said they couldn't be 
better treated if they were paying the physician 
for their attendance. The trained nurses of the 
Red Cross Society carefully look after the wants 
of the sick and injured, and see that they get 
everything they wish. People who have an ab- 
horrence of going into these hospitals need have 
no fear that they will not be well treated. 

The orphans of the flood — sadly few there are 
of them, for it was the children that usually went 
down first, not the parents — are looked after by 
the Pennsylvania Children's Aid Society, which 
has transferred its headquarters for the time being 
from Philadelphia to this city. There was a thriv- 
ing branch of this society here before the flood, 
but of all its officers and executive force two only 
are alive. Fearing such might be the situation, 
the general officers of the society sent out on the 
first available train Miss H. E. Hancock, one of 
the directors, and Miss H. W. Hinckley, the Secre- 
tary. They arrived on Thursday morning, and 
within thirty minutes had an office open in a little 
cottage just above the water-line in the upper part 
of the city. Business was ready as soon as the 
ofiflce, and there were about fifty children looked 
after before evening. In most cases these were 
children with relatives or friends in or near Johns- 
town, and the society's work has been to identify 
them and restore them to their friends. 



THE J OHNSTO WN FL O OD. ^ I jr 

As soon as the society opened its office all cases 
in which children were involved were sent at once 
to them, and their efforts have been of great ben- 
efit in systematizing" the care of the children who 
are left homeless. Besides this, there are many 
orphans who have been living in the families of 
neighbors since the flood, but for whom perma- 
nent homes must be found. One family has cared 
for one hundred and fifty-seven children saved 
from the flood, and nearly as many are staying 
with other families. There will be no difficulty 
about providing for these little ones. The society 
already has offers for the taking of as many as are 
likely to be in need of a home. 

The Rev. Morgan Dix, on behalf of the Leake 
and Watts Orphan Home in New York, has tele- 
graphed an offer to care for seventy-five orphans. 
Pittsburg is proving itself generous in this as in 
all other matters relating to the flood, and other 
places all over the country are telegraphing offers 
of homes for the homeless. Superintendent Pier- 
son, of the Indianapolis Natural Gas Company, 
has asked for two ; Cleveland wants some ; Al- 
toona would like a few ; Apollo, Pa., has vacan- 
cies the orphans can fill, and scores of other small 
places are sending in similar offers and requests. 
A queer thing is that many of tho. officers are re- 
stricted by curious provisions as to the religious 
belief of the orphans. The Rev. Dr. Griffith, for 



oi5 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

instance, of Philadelphia, says that the Angora 
(Pa.) Home would like some orphans, " especially 
Baptist ones," and Father Field, of Philadelphia, 
offers to look after a few Episcopal waifs. 

The work of the society here has been greatly 
assisted by the fact that Miss Maggie Brooks, for- 
merly Secretary of the local society here, but 
living in Philadelphia at the time of the flood, has 
come here to assist the general officers. Her ac- 
quaintance with the town is invaluable. 

Johnstown is generous in its misery. What- 
ever it has left it gives freely to the strangers who 
have come here. It is not much, but it shows a 
good spirit. There are means by which Johns- 
town people might reap a rich harvest by taking 
advantage of the necessities of strano-ers. It is 
necessary, for instance, to use boats in getting 
about the place, and men in light skiffs are poling 
about the streets all day taking passengers from 
place to place. Their services are free. They 
not only do not, but will not accept any fee. J. 
D. Haws & Son own larofe brick-kilns near the 
l^ridge. The newspaper men have possession of 
Qne of the firm's buildings and one of the firm 
§pends most of his time in running about trying to 
piake the men comfortable. A room in one of 
^he firm's barns filled with straw has been set 
apart solely for the newspaper men, who sleep 
there wrapped in blankets as comfortably as in 



THE JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. ^ I 7 

beds. There is no charge for this, although those 
who have tried one night on the floors, sand-piles, 
and other usual dormitories of the place, would 
willingly pay high for the use of the straw. Food 
for the newspaper and telegraph workers has been 
hard to get except in crude form. Canned corned 
beef, eaten with a stick for a fork, and dry crackers 
were the staples up to Tuesday, when a house up 
the hill was discovered were anybody who came 
was welcome to the best the house afforded. There 
was no sugar for the coffee, no vinegar for the 
lettuce, and the apple butter ran out before the 
sieee was raised, but the defect was in the circum- 
stances of Johnstown, and not in the will of the 
family. 

"How much?" was asked at the end of the 
meal. 

They were poor people. The man probably 
earns a dollar a day. 

"Oh!" replied the woman, who was herself cook, 
waiter, and lady of the house, " we don't charge 
anything in times like these. You see, I went out 
and spent ten dollars for groceries at a place 
that wasn't washed away right after the flood, and 
we've been living on that ever since. Of course 
we don't ask any of the relief, not being washed 
out. You men are welcome to all I can give." 

She had seen the last of her ten dollars worth of 
provisions gobbled up without a murm^ir, and yet 



^jg THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

didn't " charge anything in times Hke these." Her 
scruples did not, however, extend so far as to re- 
fusing tenders of coin, inasmuch as without it her 
larder would stay empty. She filled it up last 
night, and the news of the place having spread, 
she has been o-etting- a continual meal from five 
in the morninof until late at nio^ht. Althouo-h she 
makes no charge, her income would make a regu- 
lar restaurant keeper dizzy. 

So far as the Signal Service is concerned, the 
amount of rainfall in the region drained by the 
Conemaugh River cannot be ascertained. Mrs. 
H. M. Ogle, who had been the Signal Service 
representative in Johnstown for several years and 
also manager of the Western Union office there, 
telegraphed at eight o'clock Friday morning to 
Pittsburg that the river marked fourteen feet, 
rising ; a rise of thirteen feet in twenty-four hours. 
At eleven o'clock she wired : " River twenty feet 
and rising, higher than ever before ; water in first 
floor. Have moved to second. River gauges 
carried away. Rainfall, two and three-tenth 
inches." At twenty-seven minutes to one p. m. 
Mrs. Ogle wired: "At this hour north wind ; very 
cloudy ; water still rising." 

Nothing more was heard from her by the bu- 
reau, but at the Western Union office at Pittsburg 
later in the afternoon she commenced to tell an 
operator that the dam had broken, that a flood 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ^jg 

was coming-, and before she had finished the con- 
versation a singular chck of the instrument an- 
nounced the breaking of the current. A moment 
afterward the current of her hfe was broken for- 
ever. 

Sergeant Stewart, in charge of the Pittsburg 
bureau, says that the fail of water on the Cone- 
maugh shed at Johnstown up to the time of the 
flood was probably two and five-tenth inches. He 
believes it was much heavier in the mountains. 
The country drained by the little Conemaughand 
Stony Creek covers an area of about one hundred 
square miles. The bureau, figuring on this basis 
and two and five-tenth inches of rainfall, finds that 
four hundred and sixty-four million six hundred 
and forty thousand cubic feet of water was pre- 
cipitated toward Johnstown in its last hours. This 
is independent of the great volume of water in 
the lake, which was not less than two hundred and 
fifty million cubic feet. 

It is therefore easily seen that there was ample 
water te cover the Conemaugh Valley to the depth 
of from ten to twenty-five feet. Such a volume 
of water was never known to fall in that country 
in the same time. 

Colonel T. P. Roberts, a leading engineer, esti- 
mates that the lake drained twenty-five square 
miles, and gives some interesting data on the 
probable amount of water in contained. He 



^ 2 o THE JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 

says: " The dam, as I understand, was from hill 
to hill, about one thousand feet long and about 
eighty-five feet high at the highest point. The 
pond covered above seven hundred acres, at least 
for the present I will assume that to be the case. 
We are told also that there was a waste-weir at 
one end seventy-five feet wide and ten feet below 
the comb or top of the dam. Now we are told 
that with this weir open and discharging freely to 
the utmost of its capacity, nevertheless the pond 
or lake rose ten inches per hour until finally it 
overflowed the top, and, as I understand, the dam 
broke by being eaten away at the top. 

"Thus we have the elements for very simple 
calculation as to the amount of water precipitated 
by the flood, provided these premises are accurate. 
To raise seven hundred acres of water to a 
height of ten feet would require about three hun- 
dred million cubic feet of water, and while this 
was rising the waste-weir would discharge an 
enormous volume — it would be difficult to say 
just how much without a full knowledge of the 
shape of its side-walls, approaches, and outlets — 
but if the rise required ten hours the waste-weir 
might have discharged perhaps ninety million 
cubic feet- We would then have a total of flood 
water of three hundred and ninety million cubic 
feet. This would indicate a rainfall of about 
eight inches over the twenty-five square miles. 



THE JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. ^21 

As that much does not appear to have fallen at 
the hotel and dam it is more than likely that even 
more than eight inches was precipitated in places 
farther up. 'Ihese figures I hold tentatively, but 
I am much inclined to believe that there was a 
cloud burst." 

Of course, the Johnstown disaster, great as it 
was, was by no means the greatest flood in his- 
tory, since Noah's Deluge. The greatest of 
modern floods was that which resulted from the 
overflow of the great Houng-Ho, or Yellow River, 
in 1887. This river, which has earned the title of 
" China's Sorrow," has always been the cause of 
great anxiety to the Chinese Government and to 
the inhabitants of the country through which it 
flows. It is oruarded with the utmost care at grreat 
expense, and annually vast sums are spent in 
repairs of its banks. In October, 1887, a number 
of serious breaches occurred in the river's banks 
about three hundred miles from the coast. As a 
result the river deserted its natural bed and spread 
over a thickly-populated plain, forcing for itself 
finally an entire new road to the sea. Four or 
five times in two thousand years the great river 
had chanoed its bed, and each time the chan<^e 
had entailed great loss of life and property. 

In 1852 it burst through its banks two hundred 
and fifty miles from the sea and cut a new bed 
through the northern part of Shaptung into the 



222 ^-^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

Gulf of Pechili. The isolation in which foreigners 
lived at that time in China prevented their obtain- 
ing any information as to the calamitous results 
of this change, but in 1887 many of the barriers 
against foreigners had been removed and a gen- 
eral idea of the character of the inundation was 
easily obtainable. 

For several weeks preceding the actual over- 
flow of its banks the Hoang-Ho had been swolkn 
from its tributaries. It had been unusually wet 
and stormy in northwest China, and all the small 
streams were full and overflowine. The first 
break occurred in the province of Honan, of which 
the capital is Kaifeng, and the city next in import- 
ance is Ching or Cheng Chou. The latter is forty 
miles west of Kaifeng and a short distance above 
a bend in the Hoang-Ho. At this bend the stream 
is borne violently against the south shore. For 
ten days a continuous rain had been soaking the 
embankments, and a strong wind increased the 
already great force of the current. Finally a 
breach was made. At first it extended only for a 
hundred yards. The guards made frantic efforts 
to close the gap, and were assisted by the fright- 
ened people in the vicinity. But the beach grew 
rapidly to a width of twelve hundred yards, and 
through this the river rushed with awful force. 
Leaping over the plain with incredible velocity, 
the water merged into a small stream called the 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. ^ 2 ■? 

Lu-chia. Down the valley of the Lu-cliia the tor- 
rent poured in an easterly direction, overwhelming 
everything in its path. 

Twenty miles from Cheng Chou it encountered 
Chungmou, a walled city of the third rank. Its 
thousands of inhabitants were attending to their 
usual pursuits. There was no telegraph to warn 
them, and the first intimation of disaster came with 
the muddy torrent that rolled down upon them. 
Within a short time only the tops of the high walls 
marked where a flourishing city had been. Three 
hundred villages in the district disappeared utterly, 
and the lands about three hundred other villages 
were inundated. 

The flood turned south from Chungmou, still 
keeping to the course of the Lu-chia, and stretched 
out in width for thirty miles. This vast body of 
water was from ten to twenty feet deep. Several 
miles south of Kaifengf the flood struck a largfe 
river which there joins the Lu-chia. The result 
was that the flood rose to a still greater height, 
and, pouring into a low-lying and very fertile 
plain which was densely populated, submerged 
upward of one thousand five hundred villages. 

Not far beyond this locality the flood passed 
into the province of Anhui, where it spread very 
widely. The actual loss of life could not be com- 
puted accurately, but the lowest intelligent esti- 
mate placed it at one million five hundred thou- 



o 2 4 ^-^^ y Of INS TO WN FL O OD. 

sand, and one authority fixed it at seven million. 
Two million people were rendered destitute by 
the flood, and the sufFerinor that resulted was 
frightful. Four months later the inundated prov- 
inces were still under the muddy waters. The 
government officials who were on guard when the 
Hoang-Ho broke its banks were condemned to 
severe punishment^ and were placed in the pillory 
in spite of their pleadings that they had done their 
best to avert the disaster. 

The inundation which may be classed as the 
second greatest in modern history occurred in 
Holland in 1530. There have been many floods 
in Holland, nearly all due to the failure of the 
dikes which form the only barrier between it and 
the sea. In 1530 there was a general failure of 
the dikes, and the sea poured in upon the low 
lands. The people were as unprepared as were 
the victims of the Johnstown disaster. Good au- 
thorities place the number of human beings that 
perished in this flood at about four hundred thou- 
sand, and the destruction of property was in pro- 
portion. 

In April, 1421, the River Meuse broke in the 
dikes at Dort, or Dordrecht, an ancient town in 
the peninsula of South Holland, situated on an 
island. Ten thousand persons perished there and 
more than one hundred thousand in the vicinity. 
In January, 1861, there was a disastrous flood in 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD, ^27 

Holland, the area sweeping- over forty thousand 
acres, and leaving thirty thousand villages desti- 
tute, and again in 1876 severe losses resulted from 
inundations in this country. 

The first flood in Europe of which history gives 
any authentic account occurred in Lincolnshire, 
England, A. D. 245, when the sea passed over 
many thousands of acres. In the year 353 a flood 
m Cheshire destroyed three thousand human lives 
and many cattle. Four hundred families were 
drowned in Glasgow by an overflow of the Clyde 
in 758. A number of English seaport towns were 
destroyed by an inundation in 1014. In 1483 a 
terrible overflow of the Severn, which came at 
night and lasted for ten days, covered the tops of 
mountains. Men, women, and children were car- 
ried from their beds and drowned. The waters 
settled on the lands and were called for one hun- 
dred years after the Great Waters. 

A flood in Catalonia, a province of Spain, oc- 
curred in 1617, and fifty thousand persons lost 
their lives. One of the most curious inundations 
in history, and one that was looked upon at the 
time as a miracle, occurred in Yorkshire, England, I 
in 1686. A large rock was split assunder by 
some hidden force, and water spouted out, the 
stream reaching as high as a church steeple. In 
1 771 another flood, known as the Ripon flood> 
■•occurred in the same province. 



228 ^-^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

In September, 1687, mountain torrents inun- 
dated Navarre, and two thousand persons were 
drowned. Twice, in 1787 and in 1802, the Irish 
Liffey overran its banks and caused great damsge. 
A reservoir in Lurca, a city of Spain, burst in 
1802, in much the same way as did the dam at 
Johnstown, and as a result one thousand persons 
perished. Twenty-four villages near Presburg, 
and nearly all their inhabitants, were swept away 
in April, 181 1, by an overflow of the Danube. 
Two years later large provinces in Austria and 
Poland were flooded, and many lives were lost. 
In the same year a force of two thousand Turkish 
soldiers, who were stationed on a small island 
near Widdin, were surprised by a sudden over- 
flow of the Danube and all were drowned. There 
were two more floods in this year, one in Silesia, 
where six thousand persons perished, and the 
French army met such losses and privations that 
its ruin was accelerated ; and another in Poland, 
where four thousand persons were supposed to 
have been drowned. In 18 16 the melting of the 
snow on the mountains surrounding Strabane, 
Ireland, caused destructive floods, and the over- 
flow of the Vistula in Germany laid many villages 
under water. Floods that occasioned ereat suf- 
fering occurred in 1829, when severe rains caused 
the Spey and Findhorn to rise fifty feet above 
their ordinary level. The following year the 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ^30 

Danube again ouerflowed its banks and inundated 
the houses of fifty thousand inhabitants of Vienna, 
The Saone overflowed in 1840, and poured its 
turbulent waters iuto the Rhine, causing a flood 
which covered sixty thousand acres, Lyons was 
flooded, one hundred houses were swept away at 
Avignon, two hundred and eighteen at La Guil- 
lotiere, and three hundred at Vaise, Marseilles, 
and Ninies, Another great flood, entailincr much 
suffering, occurred in the south of France in 
1856. 

A flood in Mill River valley in 1874 was caused 
by the bursting of a badly constructed dam. The 
waters poured down upon the villages in the val- 
ley much as at Johnstown, but the people received 
warning in time, and the torrent was not so swift. 
Several villages were destroyed and one hundred 
and forty-four persons drowned. The rising of 
the Garonne in 1875 caused the death of one 
thousand persons near Toulouse, and twenty 
thousand persons were made homeless in India 
by floods in the same year. In 1882 heavy floods 
destroyeda largeamount of property and drowned 
many persons in the Mississippi and Ohio valleys. 

The awful disaster in the Conemaugh Valley 
calls attention to the fact that there are many 
similar dams throughout the United States. 
Though few of these overhang- a narrow gorge 
like the one in which the borough of Johnstown 



230 ^-^^ yOHNSTOWN FLOOD, 

reposed, there is no question that several of the 
dams now deemed safe would, if broken down by 
a sudden freshet, sweep down upon peaceful ham- 
lets, cause immense damage to property and loss 
of life. The lesson taug-ht bv the awful scenes at 
Johnstown should not go unheeded. 

Croton Lake Dam was first built with ninety 
feet of masonry overfall, the rest being earth em- 
bankment. On January 7th, 1841, a freshet car- 
ried away this earth embankment, and when re- 
built the overfall of the dam was made two hund- 
red and seventy feet long. The foundation is two 
lines of cribs, filled with dry stone, and ten feet 
of concrete between. Upon this broken range 
stone masonry was laid, the down-stream side 
beinor curved and faced with eranite, the whole 
being backed with a packing of earth. The dam 
is forty feet high, its top is one hundred and sixty- 
six feet above tidewater, and it controls a reser- 
voir area of four hundred acres and five hundred 
million gallons of water. The Boyd's Corner 
Dam holds two million seven hundred and twenty- 
seven thousand gallons, and was built during the 
years 1866 and 1872. It stands twenty-three 
miles from Croton dam, and has cut-stone faces 
filled between with concrete. The extreme height 
is seventy-eight feet, and it is six hundred and 
seventy feet long. Although this dam holds a 
body of water five times greater than that at 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ,^j 

Croton Lake, it is claimed by engineers that 
should it give way the deluge of water which 
would follow would cause very little loss of life 
and only destroy farming lands, as below it the 
countrv is comparatively level and open. Middle 
Branch Dam holds four billion four hundred 
thousand gallons, and was built during 1874 and 
1S78. It is composed of earth, with a centre of 
rubble masonry carried down to the rock bottom. 
It is also considered to be in no danger of caus- 
ing destruction by sudden breakage, as the down- 
pour of water would spread out over a large area 
of level land. Besides these there are other 
Croton water storage basins formed by dams as 
follows: East Branch, with a capacity of 4,500,- 
000,000 gallons; Lake Mahopac, 575,000,000 
gallons ; Lake Kirk, 565,000,000 gallons ; Lake 
Gleneida, 1 65,000,000 gallons : Lake Gilead, 380,- 
000,000 gallons ; Lake Waccabec, 200,000,000 
gallons ; Lake Lonetta, 50,000,000 gallons ; Bar- 
rett's ponds, 170,000,000 gallons; China pond, 
105,000,000 gallons ; White pond, 100,000,000 
gallons ; Pines pond, 75,000,000 gallons ; Long 
pond, 60,000,000 gallons ; Peach pond, 230,000,- 
000 o-allons ; Cross pond, 110,000.000 gallons, 
and Haines pond, 125,000,000 gallons, thus com- 
pleting the storage capacity of the Croton watrr 
system of 1 4fOOO,ooo.ooo gallons. The engineers 
claim that none of these last-named could cause 



^ ^ 2 ^^-^ yOHNS TO WN ILOOD. 

loss of life or any great damage to property, be- 
cause there exist abundant natural outlets. 

At Whitehall, N. G., there is a reservoir created 
by a dam three hundred and twenty feet long 
across a valley half a mile from the village and 
two hundred and sixty-six feet above it. A break 
in this dam would release nearly six million 
gallons, and probably sweep away the entire town. 
Norwich, N. Y., is supplied by an earthwork dam, 
with centre puddle-wall, three hundred and twenty- 
three feet long and forty feet high. It imprisons 
thirty million gallons and stands one hundred and 
eighty feet above the village. At an elevation of 
two hundred and fifty feet above the townof Olean 
N. Y., stands an embankment holding in check 
two million, five hundred thousand gallons. 
Oneida, N. Y., is supplied by a reservoir formed 
by a dam across a stream which controls twenty- 
two million, three hundred and fifty thousand 
gallons. The dam is nearly three miles from the 
villaofe and at an altitude of one hundred and 
ninty feet above it. Such are some of the reser- 
voirs which threaten other communities of our 
fair land. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 



Ir is now the Thursday after the disaster, and 
amid the ruins of Johnstown people are begin- 
ning- to get their wits together. They have quit 
the aimless wandering about amid the ruins, that 
marked them for a crushed and despairing peo- 
ple. Everybody is getting to work and forget- 
ting something of the horror of the situation in 
the necessity of thinking of what they are doing. 
The deadly silence that has prevailed throughout 
the town is ended, giving place to the shouts of 
hundreds of men pulling at ropes, and the crash 
of timbers and roofs as they pull wrecked build- 
ings down or haul heaps of debris to pieces. 
Hundreds more are making an almost merry 
clang with pick and shovel as they clear away 
mud and gravel, opening ways on the lines of the 
old streets. Locomotives are puffing about, down 
into the heart of the town now, and the great 
whisde at the Cambriadron Works blew for noon 

(.233) 



-^. THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD, 

yesterday and to-day for the first time since the 
flood silenced it. To lighten the sombre aspect 
of the ruined area, heightened by the cold gray 
clouds hanging low about the hills, were acres of 
flame, where debris is being got rid of. Down in 
what was the heart of the city the soldiers have 
gone into camp, and litde flags snap brightly in 
the hieh wind from their acres of white tents. 

The relief work seems now to be pretty thor- 
oughly organized, and thousands of men are at 
work under the direction of the committee. The 
men are in gangs of about a hundred each, under 
foremen, with mounted superintendents riding 
about overseeing the work. 

The first effort, aside from that being made 
upon the gorge at the bridge, is in the upper part 
of the city and In Stony Creek 'Gap, where there 
are many houses with great heaps of debris cov- 
erlnor and surroundlngr them. Three or four hun- 
dred men were set at work with ropes, chains, 
and axes upon each of these heaps, tearing It to 
pieces as rapidly as possible. Where there are 
only smashed houses and furniture In the heap 
the work is easy, but when, as in most instances, 
there are long logs and tree-trunks reaching In 
every direction through the mass, the task of get- 
ting them out Is a slow and difficult one. The 
lighter parts of the wreck are tossed Into heaps 
in the nearest clear space and set on fire. Horses 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



335 



haul the logs and heavier pieces off to add them 
to other blazing piles. Everything of any value 
is carefully laid aside, but there is little of it. 
Even the strongest furniture is generally in little 
bits when found, but in one heap this morning 
were found two mirrors, one about six feet by 
eight In size, without a crack in it, and with its 
frame little damaged ; the other one, about two 
feet by three in size, had a little crack at the bot- 
tom, but was otherwise all rlofht. 

Every once in a while the workmen about these 
wreck-heaps will stop their shouting and straining 
at the ropes, gather into a crowd at some one 
spot in the ruins, and remain idle and quiet for a 
little while. Presently the group will stir itself a 
little, fall apart, and out of it will come six men 
bearing between them on a door or other im- 
provised stretcher a vague form covered with a 
canvas blanket. The bearers go off along the 
irregular paths worn into the muddy plain, to- 
ward the different morgues, and the men go to 
work again. 

These little groups of six, with the burden be- 
tween them, are as frequent as ever. One runs 
across them everywhere about the place. Some- 
times they come so thick that they have to form 
in line at the morgue doors. The activity with 
which work was prosecuted brought rapidly to 
light the dark places within the ruins in which 



- ^ 5 ^^-^ JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 

remained concealed those bodies that the previous 
desultory searching had not brought to light. 
Many of the disclosures might almost better have 
never seen the light, so heart-rending were they. 
A mother lay with three children clasped in her 
arms. So suddenly had the visitation come upon 
them that the little ones had plainly been snatched 
up while at play, for one held a doll clutched 
tighdy in its dead hand, and in one hand of an- 
other were three marbles. This was right oppo- 
site the First National Bank building, in the heart 
of the city, and near the same spot a family of 
five — father, mother, and three children — were 
found dead toofethen Not far off a roof was lift- 
ed up, and dropped again in horror at the sight 
of nine bodies beneath it. There were more 
bodies, or fragments of bodies, found, too, in the 
gorge at the bridge, and from the Cambria Iron 
Works the ghastly burden-bearers began to come 
In with the first contributions of that locality to 
the death list. The passage of time is also bring- 
ing to the surface bodies that have been lying be- 
neath the river further down, and from Nineveh 
bodies are continually being sent up to Morrell- 
ville, just below the iron works, for identificadon. 
Wandering about near the ruins of Wood, Mor- 
rell & Co.'s store a messenger from Morrellville 
found a man who looked like the pictures of the 
Tennessee mountaineers in the Century Maga- 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. -^^y 

zine, with an addition of woe and misery upon 
his gaunt, hairy face that no picture could ever 
Indicate. He was tall and thin, and bent, and, 
from his appearance, abjectly poor. He was tell- 
ing two strangers how he had lived right across 
from the store, with his wife and eight children. 
When the hio;h water came and word was brouo-ht 
that the dam was In danger, he told his wife to 
get the children together and come with him. The 
water was deep In the streets, and the passage to 
the bluff would have been difficult. She laug-hed 
at him and told him the dam was all rlo^ht. He 
urged her, ordered her, and did everything else 
but pick her up bodily and carry her out, but she 
would not come. Finally he set the example and 
dashed out, himself, through the water, calling to 
his wife to follow. As his feet began to touch 
rising ground, he saw the wall of water coming 
down the valley. He climbed In blind terror up 
the bank, helped by the rising water, and, reach- 
ing solid ground, turned just in time to see the 
water strike his house. 

"When I turned my back," he said, ''I couldn't 
look any longer." 

Tears ran down his face as he said this. The 
messenger coming up just then said :•— 

" Your wife has been found. They got her 
down at Nineveh. Her brother has gone to fetch 
her up." 



^ -, 3 "^HE JOHNS TO WN FL O OD. 

The man went away with the messenger. 

" He didn't seem much rejoiced over the good 
news about his wife," remarked one of the stran- 
gers, who had yet to learn that Johnstown people 
speak of death and the dead only indirectly when- 
ever possible. 

It was the wife's body, not the wife, that had 
been found, and that the messenger was to fetch 
up. The bodies of this man's eight children have 
not yet been found. He is the only survivor of 
a family of ten. 

Queer salvage from the flood was a cat that 
was taken out alive last evening. Its hair was 
singed off and one eye gone, but it was able to 
lick the hand of the man who picked it up and 
carried it off to keep, he said, as a relic of the 
flood. A white Wyandotte rooster and two hens 
were also dug out alive, and with dry feathers, 
from the centre of a heap of wrecked buildings. 

The work of clearing up the site of the town 
has progressed so far that the outlines of some 
of the old streets could be faintly traced, and citi- 
zens were going about hunting up their lots. In 
many, cases it was a difficult task, but enough old 
landmarks are left to make the determination of 
boundary lines by a new survey a comparatively 
easy matter. 

The scenes in the morgues are disgusting in the 
highest degree. The embalmers are at work cut- 



THE JOIINSTOlViV FLOOD. >,-,g 

ting and slashing with an apathy born of four days 
and nights of the work, and such as they never 
experienced before. The boards on which the 
bodies He are covered with mud and sHme, in 
many instances. 

Men with dynamite, blowing up the drift at the 
Pennsylvania Railroad bridge, people in the drift 
watching for bodies, people finding bodies in the 
ruins and carrying them away on stretchers or 
sheets, the bonfires of blazing debris all over the 
town, the soldiers with their bayonets guarding 
property or taking thieves into custody, the tin- 
starred policemen with their base ball clubs 
promenading the streets and around the ruins, 
the scenes of distress and frenzy at the relief sta- 
tions, the crash of buildings as their broken rem- 
nants fall to the ground— this is the scene that 
goes on night and day in Johnstown, and will go 
on for an indefinite time. Still, people have 
worked so in the midst of such excitement, with 
the pressure of such an awful horror on their 
minds that they can get but little rest even when 
they wish to. Men in this town are too tired to 
sleep. They lie down with throbbing brains that 
cannot stop throbbing, so that even the sense of 
thinking is intense agony. 

The undertakers and embalmers claim that 
they are the busiest men in town, and that they 
have done more to help the city than any other 



340 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



workmen. The people who attend the morgues 
for the purpose of identifying their friends and 
relatives are hardly as numerous as before. Many 
of them are exhausted with the constant wear and 
tear, and many have about made up their minds 
that their friends are lost beyond recovery, and 
that there is no use looking for them any longer. 
Others have gone to distant parts of the State, 
and have abandoned Johnstown and all in it. 

A little girl in a poor calico dress climbed upon 
the fence at the Adams Street morgue and looked 
wistfully at the row of coffins in the yard. Peo- 
ple were only admitted to the morgue in squads 
of ten each, and the little girl's turn had not come 
yet. Her name was Jennie Hoffman. She was 
twelve years old. She told a reporter that out of 
her family of fourteen the father and mother and 
oldest sister were lost. They were all in their 
home on Somerset Street when the flood came. 
The father reached out for a tree which went 
sweeping by, and was pulled out of the window 
and lost. The mother and children got upon the 
roof, and then a dash of water carried her and 
the eldest daughter off. A colored man on an 
adjoining house took off the little girls who were 
left — all of them under twelve years of age, ex- 
cept Jennie — and together they clambered over 
the roofs of the houses near by and escaped. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 



Day after day the work of reparation goes on. 
The city has been blotted out. Yet the reeking 
ruins that mark its site are teemino- with hfe 
and work more vioforous than ever marked its 
noisy streets and panting factories. As men and 
money pour into Johnstown the spirit of the town 
greatly revives, and the people begin to take a 
much more favorable view of things. The one 
thing that is troubling people just now is the lack 
of ready money. There are drafts here in any 
quantity, but there is no money to cash them 
until the money in the vaults of the First National 
Bank has been recovered. It is known that the 
vaults are safe and that about ^500,000 in cash 
is there. Of this sum ^125,000 belongs to the 
Cambria Iron Company. It was to pay the five 
thousand employes of the works. The men are 
paid off every two weeks, and the last pay-day 
was to have been on the Saturday after the fatal 

(341) 



342 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



flood. The money was brought down to Johns- 
town, on the day before the flood, by the Adams 
Express Company, and deposited in the bank. 
After the water subsided, and it was discovered 
that the money was safe, a guard was placed 
around the bank and has been maintained ever 
since. 

When the pay-day of the Cambria Iron Com- 
pany does come it wiU be an impressive scene. 
The only thing comparable to it will be the roll- 
call after a great battle. Mothers, wives, and 
children will be there to claim the wages of sons, 
and husbands, and fathers. The men in the 
gloomy line will have few families to take their 
wages home to. The Cambria people do not 
propose to stand on any red-tape rules about 
paying the wages of their dead employes to the 
surviving friends and relatives. They will only 
try to make reasonably sure that they are paying 
the money to the right persons. 

An assistant cashier, Thomas McGee, in the 
company's store saved ^12,000 of the company's 
funds. The money was all in packages of bills 
in bags in the safe on the ground floor of the 
main bulldlne of the stores. When the water 
began to rise he went up on the second floor of 
the building, carrying the money with him. 
When the crash of the reservoir torrent came 
Mr. McGee clambered upon the roof, and just 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



345 



before the building tottered and fell he managed 
to jump on the roof of a house that went by. The 
house was swept near the bank. Mr. McGee 
jumxped off and fell into the water, but struck out 
and managed to clamber up the bank. Then he 
got up on the hills and remained out all night 
guarding his treasure. 

At dawn of Thursday the stillness of the night, 
which had been punctured frequently by the pis- 
tol and musket shots of vigilant guards scaring 
off possible marauders, was permanently fractured 
by the arousing of gangs of laborers who had 
slept about wherever they could find a soft spot 
in the ruins, as well as in tents set up In the cen- 
tre of where the town used to be. The soldiers 
in their camps were seen about later, and the rail- 
road gang of several hundred men set out up the 
track toward where they had left off work the 
night before. Breakfast was cooked at hundreds 
of camp-fires, and about brick-kilns, and wherever 
else a fire could be got. At seven o'clock five 
thousand laborers struck pick and shovel and saw 
into the square miles of debris heaped over the 
city's site. At the same time more laborers be- 
gan to arrive on trains and march through the 
streets in long gangs toward the place where they 
were needed. Those whose work was to be pull- 
ing and hauling trailed along In lines, holding to 
their ropes. They looked like gangs of slaves 



246 "^^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

being driven to a market. By the time the fore- 
noon was well under way, seven thousand labor- 
ers were at work in the city under the direction 
of one hundred foremen. There were five hun- 
dred cars and as many teams, and half a dozen 
portable hoisting engines, besides regular loco- 
motives and trains of flat cars that were used in 
hauling off debris that could not be burned. 
With this force of men and appliances at work 
the ruined city, looked at from the bluffs, seemed 
to fairly swarm with life, wherever the flood had 
left anything to be removed. The whole lower 
part of the city, except just above the bridge, re- 
mained the deserted mud desert that the waters 
left. There was no cleaning up necessary there. 
Through the upper part of the city, where the 
houses were simply smashed to kindling wood 
and piled Into heaps, but not ground to pieces 
under the whirlpool that bore down on the rest 
of the city, acres of bonfires have burned all day. 
The stifling smoke, blown by a high wind, has 
made life almost unendurable, and the flames 
have twirled about so fiercely in the gusts as to 
scorch the workmen some distance away. Citi- 
zens whose houses were not damaged beyond sal- 
vation have almost got to work in clearing out 
their homes and trying to make them somewhere 
near habitable. In the poorer parts of the city 
often one story and a half frame cottages are seen 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



347 



completely surrounded by heaps of debris tossed 
up high above their roofs. Narrow lanes driven 
through the debris have given the owners entrance 
to their homes. 

With all the work the apparent progress was 
small. A stranger seeing the place for the first 
time would never Imagine that the wreck was not 
just as the flood left it. The enormity of the task 
of clearing the place grows more apparent the 
more the work Is prosecuted, and with the force 
now at work the job cannot be done in less than 
a month. It will hardly be possible to find room 
for any larger force. 

The railroads added largely to the bustle of the 
place. Long freight trains, loaded with food and 
clothing for the suffering, were continually coming 
in faster than they could be unloaded. Lumber 
was also arriving in great quantities, and hay and 
feed for the horses was heaped up high alongside 
the tracks. Hundreds of men were swarming 
over the road-bed near the Pennsylvania station, 
strengthening and improving the line. Work 
was begun on frame sheds and other temporary 
buildings in several places, and the rattle of ham- 
mers added its din to the shouts of the workmen 
and the crash of falling wreckagfe. 

Some sort of organization Is being introduced 
into other things about the city than the clearing 
away of the debris. The Post-office Is established 



- ^3 ^-^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

in a small brick building in the upper part of the 
city. Those of the letter carriers who are alive, 
and a few clerks, are the working force. The re- 
ception of mail consists of one damaged street 
letter-box set upon a box in front of the building 
and guarded by a carrier, who has also to see 
that there is no crowding in the long lines of peo- 
ple waiting to get their turn at the two windows 
where letters and stamps are served out. A wide 
board, stood up on end, is lettered rudely, " Post- 
ofhce Bulletin," and beneath is a slip of paper 
with the information that a mail will leave the city 
for the West during the day, and that no mail 
has been received. There are many touching 
things in these Post-office lines. It is a good 
place for acquaintances who lived in different parts 
of the city to find out whether each is alive or 
dead. 

"You are through all right, I see," said one 
man in the line to an acquaintance who came up 
this morning. 

"Yes," said the acquaintance. 

" And how's your folks? They all right, too ?" 
was the next question. 

"Two of them are — them two little ones sitting 
on the steps there. The mother and the other 
three have gone down." 

Such conversations as this take place every few 
minutes. Near the Post-office is the morgue for 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



349 



that part of the city, and other lines of waiting 
people reach out from there, anxious for a glimpse 
at the contents of the twenty-five coffins ranged in 
lines in front of the school-building, that does duty 
for a dead-house. Only those who have business 
are admitted, but the number is never a small one. 
Each walks alon^ the lines of coffins, raises the 
cover over the face, glances in, drops the cover 
quickly, and passes on. Men bearing ghastly 
burdens on stretchers pass frequently into the 
school-house, where the undertakers prepare the 
bodies for identification. 

A little farther along is the relief headquarters 
for that part of the city, and the streets there are 
packed all day long wnth women and children with 
baskets on their arms. So great is the demand 
that the people have to stand in line for an hour 
to get their turn. A large unfinished building Is 
turned Into a storehouse for clothing, and the 
people throng into it empty-handed and come out 
with arms full of underclothing and other wear- 
ing apparel. At another building the sanitary 
bureau is servlnof out disinfectants. 

The workmen upon the debris in what was the 
heart of the city have now reached well Into the 
ruins and are ofettino- to Avhere the valuable con- 
tents of jewelry and other stores may be expected 
to be found, and strict watch Is being kept to pre- 
vent the theft of any such articles by the work- 



350 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



men or others. In the ruins of the Wood, Morrell 
& Co. general store a large amount of goods, 
chiefly provisions and household utensils, has been 
found In fairly good order. It Is piled In a heap 
as fast as gotten out, and the building is being 
pulled down. 

About the worst heap of wreckage In the cen- 
tre of the city is where the Cambria Library build- 
ing stood, opposite the general store. This was 
a very substantial and handsome building and of- 
fered much obstruction to the flood. It was com- 
pletely destroyed, but upon Its site a mass of 
trees, logs, heavy beams, and other wreckage 
was left, knotted together Into a mass only extri- 
cable by the use of the ax and saw. Two hun- 
dred men have worke-d at It for three days and It 
Is not half removed yet. 

The Cambria Iron Company have several acres 
of gravel and clay to remove from the upper end 
of Its yard. Except for an occasional corner of 
some big Iron machine that projects above the 
surface no one would ever suspect that It was not 
the original earth. In one place a freight car 
brake-wheel lies just on the surface of the ground, 
apparently dropped there loosely. Any one who 
tries to kick It aside or pick It up finds that it 
Is still attached to its car, which is burled under 
a solid mass of gravel and broken rock. Several 
lanes have been dug through this mass down to 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



351 



the old railroad tracks, and two or three of the 
little yard engines of the iron company, resur- 
rected with smashed smoke-stacks and other liofht 
damage, but workable yet, go puffing about hard- 
ly visible above the general level of the new-made 
ground. 

The progress of the work upon the black and 
still smokinof mass of charred ruins above the 
bridge is hardly perceptible. There is clear water 
for about one hundred feet back from the central 
arch, and a little opening before the two on each 
side of it. When there is a good-sized hole made 
before all three of these arches, through which 
the bulk of the water runs, it is expected that 
the stuff can be pulled apart and set afloat much 
more rapidly. Dynamiter Kirk, who is oversee- 
ing the work, used up the last one hundred 
pounds of the explosive early this afternoon, and 
had to suspend operations until the arrival of two 
hundred pounds more that was on the way from 
Pittsburgh. The dynamite has been used in small 
doses for fear of damaging the bridge. Six 
pounds was the heaviest charge used. Even with 
this the stone beneath the arches of the bridge is 
charred and crumbling in places, and some pieces 
have been blown out of the heavy coping. The 
whole structure shakes as though with an earth- 
quake at every discharge. 

The dynamite is placed in holes drilled in logs 



352 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



matted Into the surface of the raft, and Its effect 
being downward, the greatest force of the explo- 
sion is upon the mass of stuff beneath the water. 
At the same time each charge sent up into the 
air, one hundred feet or more, a fountain of dirt, 
stones, and blackened fragments of logs, many 
of them large enough to be dangerous. The 
rattling crash of their fall upon the bridge follows 
hard after the heavy boom of the explosion. One 
of the worst and most unexpected objects with 
which the men on the raft have to contend is the 
presence in it of hundreds of miles of telegraph 
wire wound around almost everything there and 
binding the whole mass together. 

No bodies have yet been brought to the sur- 
face by the operations with dynamite, but indica- 
tions of several buried beneath the surface are 
evident. A short distance back from where the 
men are not at work, bodies continue to be taken 
out from the surface of the raft at the rate of 
ten or a dozen a day. The men this afternoon 
came across hundreds of feet of polished copper 
pipe, which Is said to have come from a Pullman 
car. It was not known until then that there was a 
Pullman car in that part of the raft. The rem- 
nants of a vestibule car are plainly seen at a point 
a hundred feet away from this. 



CHAPTER XXX. 



The first thing that Johnstown people do In the 
mornnig is to go to the reUef stations and get 
something to eat. They go carrying big baskets, 
and their endeavor is to get all they can. There 
has been a new system every day about the man- 
ner of dispensing the food and clothing to the suf- 
ferers. At first the supplies were placed where 
people could help themselves. Then they were 
placed in yards and handed to people over the 
fences. Then people had to get orders for what 
they wanted from the Citizens Committee, and 
their orders were filled at the different relief sta- 
tions. Now the whole matter of receivlngf and 
^ dispensing relief supplies has been placed in the 
hands of the Grand Army of the Republic men. 
Thomas A. Stewart, commander of the Depart- 
ment of Pennsylvania, G. A, R., arrived with his 
staff and established his headquarters in a tent 
near the headquarters of the Citizens Committee, 

(353) 



354 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



and opposite the temporary post-office. Over this 
tent floats Commander Stewart's flag, with pur- 
ple border, bearing the arms of the State of 
Pennsylvania. The members of his staff" are : 
Quartermaster-General Tobin Taylor and his as- 
sistant H. J. Williams, Chaplain John W. Sayres, 
and W. V. Lawrence, quartermaster-general of 
the Ohio Department. The Grand Army men 
have made the Adams Street relief station a 
central relief station, and all the others, at Kern- 
ville, the Pennsylvania depot, Cambria City, and 
Jackson and Somerset Street, sub-stations. The 
idea is to distribute supplies to the sub-stations 
from the central station, and thus avoid the jam 
of crying and excited people at the committee's 
headquarters. 

The Grand Army men have appointed a com- 
mittee of women to assist them in their work. 
The women go from house to house, ascertaining 
the number of people quartered there, the num- 
ber of people lost from there in the flood, and the 
exact needs of the people. It was found neces- 
sary to have some such committee as this, for 
there were women actually starving, who were too 
proud to take their places In line with the other 
women with bags and baskets. Some of these 
people were rich before the flood. Now they are 
not worth a dollar. A Sun reporter was told of 
one man who was reported to be worth ^100,000 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



355 



before the flood, but who now is penniless, and 
who has to take his place in the line along with 
others seeking the necessaries of life. 

Though the Adams Street station is now the 
central relief station, the most imposing display of 
supplies is made at the Pennsylvania Railroad 
freight and passenger depots. Here, on the 
platforms and in the yards, are piled up barrels of 
flour in long rows, three and four barrels high ; 
biscuits in cans and boxes, where car-loads of 
them have been dumped; crackers, under the rail- 
road sheds in bins ; hams, by the hundred, strung 
on poles ; boxes of soap and candles, barrels of 
kerosene oil, stacks of canned goods, and things 
to eat of all sorts and kinds. The same is visible 
at the Baltimore and Ohio road, and there Is now 
no fear of a food famine In Johnstown, though of 
course everybody will have to rough it for weeks. 
What is needed most in this line is cookine uten- 
sils, Johnstown people want stoves, kettles, pans, 
knives, and forks. All the things that have been 
sent so far have been sent with the evident Idea 
of supplying an instant need, and that is right and 
proper, but It would be well now, if, instead of 
some of the provisions that are sent, cooking 
utensils would arrive. Fifty stoves arrived from 
Plttsburg-h this morninof, and it is said that more 
are comlngf. 

At both the depots where the supplies are re- 



^1-5 THE JOHNS TO WN FL O OD. 



o 



ceived and stored a big" rope-line incloses them 
in an impromptu yard, so as to give room to 
those having them in charge to walk around and 
see what they have got. On the inside of this 
line, too, stalk back and forth the soldiers, with 
their rifles on their shoulders, and, beside the 
lines pressing against the ropes, there stands 
every day, from daylight until dawn, a crowd of 
women with big baskets, who make piteous ap- 
peals to the soldiers to give them food for their 
children at once, before the order of the relief 
committee. Those to whom supplies are dealt 
out at the stations have to approach in a line, and 
this line is fringed with soldiers, Pittsburgh police- 
men, and deputy sheriffs, who see that the chil- 
dren and weak women are not crowded out of 
their places by the stronger ones. The supplies 
are not given in large quantities, but the appli- 
cants are told to come again in a day or so and 
more will be given them. The women complain, 
against this bitterly, and go away with tears in 
their eyes, declaring that they have not been given 
enough. Other women utter broken words of 
thankfulness and go away, their faces wreathed 
in smiles. 

One night something in the nature of a raid 
was made by Father McTahney, one of the Cath- 
olic priests here, on the houses of some people 
whom he suspected of having imposed upon the 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ^r>^ 

relief committee. These persons represented 
that they were destitute, and sent their cliildren 
with baskets to the reHef stations, each child get- 
ting supplies for a different family. There are 
unquestionably many such cases. Father Mc- 
Tahney found that his suspicions were correct in 
a great many cases, and he brought back and 
made the wrong-doers bring back the provisions 
which they had obtained under false pretenses. 

The side tracks at both the Pennsylvania and 
Baltimore and Ohio Railroad depots are filled 
with cars sent from different places, bearing relief 
supplies to Johnstown. The cars are nearly all 
freight cars, and they contain the significant in- 
scriptions of the railroad officials: "This car Is 
on time freight. It Is going to Johnstown, and 
must not be delayed under any circumstances." 
Then, there are the ponderous labels of the 
towns and associations sending the supplies. 
They read this way: "This car for Johnstown 
with supplies for the sufferers." " Braddock re- 
lief for Johnstown." "The contributions of 
Beaver Falls to Johnstown." The cars from 
Pittsburgh had no inscriptions. Some cars had 
merely the inscription. In great big black letters 
on a white strip of cloth running the length of the 
car, "Johnstown." One car reads on it: "Sta- 
tions along the route fill this car with supplies for 
Johnstown, and don't delay it." 



CHAPTER XXXI. 



At the end of the week Adjutant-General 
Hastings moved his headquarters from the signal 
tower and the Pennsylvania Railroad depot to the 
eastern end of the Pennsylvania freight depot. 
Here the general and his staff sleep on the hard 
floor, with only a blanket under them. They 
have their work systematized and in good shape, 
though about all they have done or will do is to 
prevent strangers and others who have no busi- 
ness here from entering the city. The entire 
regiment which is here is disposed around the 
city in squads of two or three men each. The 
men are scattered up and down the Conemaugh, 
away out on the Pennsylvania and Baltimore and 
Ohio Railaoad tracks, along Stony Creek on the 
southern side of the town, and even upon the 
hills. It is impossible for any one to get into 
town by escaping the guards, for there is a cor- 
don of soldiers about it. General Hastings rides 

(558) 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



359 



around on a horse, Inspecting the posts, and the 
men on guard present arms to him In due form, 
he returning the salute. The sight Is a singular 
one, for General Hastings is not in uniform, and 
in fact wears a very rusty civilian's dress. He 
wears a pair of rubber boots covered with mud, 
and a suit of old, well-stained, black clothes. His 
coat is a cutaway. His appearance among his 
staff officers is still more dramatic, for the latter, 
being ordered out and having time to prepare, 
are In gold lace and feathers and glittering uni- 
forms. 

General Hastings came here right after the 
flood, on the spur of the moment, and not in his 
official capacity. He rides his horse finely and 
looks every inch a soldier. He has established 
In his headquarters In the freight depot a very 
much-needed bureau for the answerlngf of tele- 
grams from friends of Johnstown people making 
Inquiries as to the latter s safety. The bureau is 
in charge of A. K. Parsons, who has done good 
work since the flood, and who, with Lieutenant 
George Miller, of the Fifth Infantry, U. S. A., 
General Hastings' right-hand man, has been with 
the general constantly. The telegrams In the 
past have all been sent to the headquarters of the 
Citizens Committee, In the Fourth Ward Hotel, 
and have laid there, along with telegrams of every 
sort, in a little heap on a little side table in one 



ogo ^'-^-^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

corner of the room. Three-quarters of them 
were not called for, and people who knew that 
telegrams were there for them did not have the 
patience to look through the heap for them. Fi- 
nally some who were not worried to death took 
the telegrams, opened them all, and pinned them 
in separate packages in alphabetical order and 
then put them back on the table again, and they 
have been pored over, until their edges are frayed, 
by all the people who crowded Into the little low- 
roofed room where Dictator Scott and his mes- 
sengers are. There were something like three 
thousand telegrams there In all. Occasionally a 
few are taken away, but in the majority of cases 
they remain there. The persons to whom they 
were sent are dead or have not taken the trouble 
to come to headquarters and see if their friends 
are inquiring after them. Of course the Western 
Union Telegraph Company makes no effort to 
deliver the messages. This would be impossible. 

The telegrams addressed to the Citizens Com- 
mittee headquarters are all different in form, of 
course, but they all breathe the utmost anxiety 
and suspense. Here are some samples : — 

Is Samuel there ? Is there any hope ? Answer 
me and end this suspense. Sarah. 

To anybody i?i yohnstown : 

Can you give me any Information of Adam 
Brennan ? Mary Brennan. 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ^5-, 

Are any of you alive ? James. 

Are you all safe ? Is it our John Burn that is 
dead? Is Eliza safe ? Answer. 

It is worth repeating again that the majority of 
these telegrams will never be answered. 

The Post-office letter carriers have only just be- 
gun to make their rounds in that part of the town 
which is comparatively uninjured. Bags of first- 
class mail matter are alone brouorht into town. It 
will be weeks before people see the papers in the 
mails. The supposition is that nobody has time 
to read papers, and this is about right. The let- 
ter carriers are making an effort, as far as they 
can, to distribute mail to the families of the de- 
ceased people. Many of the letters which arrive 
now contain money orders, and while great care 
has to be taken in the distribution, the postal au- 
thorities recognize the necessity of getting these 
Irtteis to the parties addressed, or else returning 
them to the Dead Letter Office as proof of the 
death of the individuals In question. It is no 
doubt that In this way the first knowledge of the 
death of many will be transmitted to friends. 

It is fair to say th it the best part of the ener- 
gies of the State of Pennsylvania at present are 
ah turned upon Johnstown. Here are the leading 
physicians, the best nurses, some of the heaviest 
contractors, the brightest newspaper men, all the 
military geniuses, and, if not the actual presence, 



-y^A THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

at least the attention, of the capitalists. The 
newspapers, medical reviews, and publications of 
all sorts teem with suggestions. Johnstown is a 
compendium of business, and misery, and despair. 
One class of men should be given credit for thor- 
ough work in connection with the calamity. 
These are the undertakers. They came to Johns- 
town, from all over Pennsylvania, at the first alarm. 
They are the men whose presence was impera- 
tively needed, and who have actually been forced 
to work day and night in preserving bodies and 
preparing them for burial. One of the most act- 
ive undertakers here is John McCarthy, of Syra- 
cuse, N. Y., one of the leading undertakers there, 
and a very public-spirited man. He brought a 
letter of introduction from Mayor Kirk, of Syra- 
cuse, to the Citizens Committee here. He said 
to a reporter: — 

" It is worthy of mention, perhaps, that never 
before in such a disaster as this have bodies re- 
ceived such careful treatment and has such a 
wholesale embalming been practiced. Everybody 
recovered, whether identified or not, whether of 
rich man or poor man, or of the humblest child, 
has been carefully cleaned and embalmed, placed 
in a neat cofifin, and not buried when unidentified 
until the last possible moment. When you re- 
flect that over one thousand bodies have been 
treated in this way it means something. It is to 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ogt 

be regretted that some pains were not taken to 
keep a record of the bodies recovered, but the 
undertakers cannot be blamed for that. They 
should have been furnished with clerks, and that 
whole matter made the subject of the work of a 
bureau by itself. We have had just all we could 
do cleaninor and embalmincr the bodies." 

The unsightliest place in Johnstown is the 
morgue in the Presbyterian Church. The edifice 
is a large brick structure in the centre of the city, 
and was about the first church building In the city. 
About one hundred and seventy-five people took 
refug-e there durinof the flood. After the first 
crash, when the people were expecting another 
every instant, and of course that they would per- 
ish, the pastor of the church, the Rev. Mr. Beale, 
began to pray fervently that the lives of those in 
the church might be spared. He fairly wrestled 
in prayer, and those who heard him say that it 
seemed to be a very death-struggle with the de- 
mon of the flood itself. No second crash came, 
the waters receded, and the lives of those in the 
church were spared. The people said that it was 
all due to the Rev. Mr. Beale's prayer. The 
pews in the church were all demolished, and the 
Sunday-school room under it was flooded with the 
angry waters, and filled up to the ceiling with 
debris. The Rev. Mr. Beale Is now general 
morgue director In Johnstown, and has the au- 



,55 ^^^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

thority of a dictator of the bodies of the dead. 
In the Presbyterian Church morgue the bodies 
are, ahnost without exception, those which have 
been recovered from the ruins of the smashed 
buildings. The bodies are torn and bruised in 
the most horrible manner, so that identification is 
very difficult. They are nearly all bodies of the 
prominent or well-known residents of Johnstown, 
The cleaning and embalming of the bodies takes 
place In the corners of the church, on either side 
of the pulpit. As soon as they have a present- 
able appearance, the bodies are placed in coffins, 
put across the ends of the pews near the aisles, 
so that people can pass around through the aisles 
and look at them. Few Identifications have yet 
been made here. In one coffin Is the body of a 
young man who had on a nice bicycle suit when 
found. In his pockets were forty dollars in money. 
The bicycle has not been found. It is supposed 
that the body is that of some young fellow who 
was on a bicycle tour up the Conemaugh River, 
and who was engulfed by the flood. 

The waters played some queer freaks. A 
number of mirrors taken out of the ruins with 
the frames smashed and with the glass parts en- 
tirely uninjured have been a matter for constant 
comment on the part of those who have Inspected 
the ruins and worked in them. When the waters 
went down, the Sunday-school rooms of the Pres- 



THE JOHNSTOWN J' LOOD. ^gy 

byterian Church just referred to were found ht- 
tered with playing cards. In a baby's cradle was 
found a dissertation upon infant baptism and two 
volumes of a history of the Crusades. A com- 
mercial man from Pittsburgh, who came down to 
look at the ruins, found among them his own 
picture. He never was In Johnstown but two or 
three times before, and he did not have any 
friends there. How the picture got among the 
ruins of Johnstown is a mystery to him. 

About the only people who have come into 
Johnstown, not having business there connected 
with the clearing up of the city, are people from a 
great distance, hunting up their friends and rela- 
tives. There are folks here now from almost 
every State in the Union, with the exception, per- 
haps, of those on the Pacific coast. There are 
people, too, from Pennsylvania and States pxear 
by, who, receiving no answer to their telegrams, 
have decided to come on in person. They wan- 
der over the town in their search, at first franti- 
cally asking everybody right and left if they have 
heard of their missing friends. Generally no- 
body has heard of them, or some one may re- 
member that he saw a man who said that he hap- 
pened to see a body pulled out at Nineveh or 
Cambria City, or somewhere, that looked like Jack 
So-and-So, naming the missing one. At the 
morgues the inquirer is told that about four hun- 



^58 ^-^^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

dred unidentified dead have already been buried, 
and on the fences before the morgues and on the 
outside house walls of the buildings themselves 
he reads several hundred such notices as these, of 
bodies still unclaimed : — 

A woman, dark hair, blue eyes, blue waist, dark 
dress, clothing of fine quality ; a single bracelet 
on the left arm ; age, about twenty-three. 

An old lady, clothing undistinguishable, but 
containing a purse with twenty-seven dollars and 
a small key. 

A young man, fair complexion, light hair, gray 
eyes, dark blue suit, white shirt ; believed to have 
been a guest at the Hurlburt House. 

A female; supposed to belong to the Salvation 
Army. 

A man about thirty-five years old, dark-com- 
plexioned, brown hair, brown moustache, light 
clothes, left leg a little shortened. 

A boy about ten years old, found with a little 
girl of nearly same age ; boy had hold of girl's 
hand; both light-haired and fair-complexioned, 
and girl had long curls; boy had on dark clothes, 
and girl a gingham dress. 

The people looking for their friends had lots of 
money, but money is of no use now in Johnstown. 
It cannot hire teams to go up along the Cone- 
maugh River, where lots of people want to go; 
it cannot hire men as searchers, for all the people 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. , ^gg 

in Johnstown not on business of their own are 
digging in the ruins ; it cannot even buy food, for 
what Httle food there is in Johnstown is practically 
free, and a good square meal cannot be procured 
for love nor money anywhere. Under these dis- 
couragements many people are giving up the 
search and going home, either giving their rela- 
tives up for dead or waiting for them to turn up, 
still maintaining the hope that they are alive. 

Johnstown at night now is a wild spectacle. 
The major part of the town is enveloped in dark- 
ness, and lights of all colors flare out all around, 
so that the city looks something like a night scene 
in a railroad yard. The burning of immense 
piles of debris is continued at night, and the red 
glare of the flames at the foot of the hills seems 
like witch-fires at the mouth of caverns. The 
camp-fires of the military on the hills above the 
Conemaugh burn brightly. Volumes of smoke 
pour up all over the town. Along the Pennsyl- 
vania Railroad gangs of men are working all 
night long by electric light, and the engines, with 
their great headlights and roaring steam, go about 
continually. Below the railroad bridge stretches 
away the dark, sullen mass of the drift, with its 
freight of human bodies beyond estimate. Now 
and then, from the headquarters of the newspaper 
men, can be heard the military guards on their 
posts challenging passers-by. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 



It is now a week since the flood, and Johns- 
town is a cross between a mihtary camp and a 
new mining town, and is getting more so every 
day. It has all the unpleasant and disagreeable 
features of both, relieved by tlie pleasures of 
neither. Everj'where one goes soldiers are loung- 
ino- about or standingr miard on all roads leadingr 
Into the city, and stop every one who cannot show 
a pass. There is a mass of tents down in the 
centre of the ruins, and others are scattered ev- 
erywhere on every cleared space beside the rail- 
road tracks and on the hills about. A corps of 
engineers is laying pontoon bridges over the 
streams, pioneers are everywhere laying out new 
camps, erecting mess sheds and other rude build- 
ings, and clearing away obstructions to the ready 
passage of supply wagons. Mounted men are 
continually galloping about from place to place 
carrying orders. At headquarters about the 

(370) 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



;7i 



Pennsylvania Railroad depot there are dozens of 
petty officers in giddy gold lace, and General 
Hastings, General Wiley, and a few others in 
dingy clothes, sitting about the shady part of the 
platform giving and receiving orders. The oc- 
casional thunder of dynamite sounds like the 
boom of distant cannon defending some outpost. 
Supplies are heaped up about headquarters, and 
are being unloaded from cars as rapidly as loco- 
motives can push them up and get the empty cars 
out of the way again. From cooking tents smoke 
and savory odors go up all day, mingled with the 
odor carbolic from hospital tents scattered about. 
It is very likely that within a short time this mili- 
tary appearance will be greatly increased by the 
arrival of another resfiment and the formal declar- 
ation of martial law. 

On the other hand the town's resemblance to 
a new mining camp is just as striking. Every- 
thing is muddy and desolate. There are no 
streets nor any roads, except the rough routes 
that the carts wore out for themselves across the 
sandy plain. Rough sheds and shanties are going 
up on every hand. There are no regular stores, 
but cigars and drink — none intoxicating, how- 
ever- — are peddled from rough board counters. 
Railroads run into the camp over uneven, crooked 
tracks. Trains of freight cars are constantly ar- 
rivino- and beings shoved off onto all sorts of sid- 



372 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



ings, or even into the mud, to get them out of the 
way. Everybody wears his trousers in his boots, 
and is muddy, ragged, and unshaven. Men with 
picks and shovels are everywhere delving or min- 
ing for something that a few days ago was more 
precious than gold, though really valueless now. 
Occasionally they make a find and gather around 
to inspect it as miners might a nugget. All it 
needs to complete the mining camp aspect of the 
place is a row of gambling hells in full blast un- 
der the temporary electric lights that gaudily il- 
luminate the centre of the town. 

Matters are becoming very well systematized, 
both in the military and the mining way. Martial 
law could be imposed to-day with very little in- 
convenience to any one. The guard about the 
town is very well kept, and the loafers, bummers, 
and thieves are being pretty well cleared out. 
The Grand Army men have thoroughly organized 
the work of distributing supplies to the sufferers 
by the flood, the refugees, and contraband of this 
camp. 

The contractors who are clearing up the debris 
have their thousands of men well in hand, and 
are getting good work out of them, considering 
the condidons under which the men have to live, 
with insufficient food, poor shelter, and other 
serious impediments to physical effectiveness. 
All the men except those on the gorge above 



THE JOHNSTOWN J-LOOD. 



Z7 



the bridge have been working amid the heaps 
of ruined buildings in the upper part of the 
city. The first endeavor has been to open the 
old streets in which the debris was heaped as 
high as the house-tops. Fair progress has been 
made, but there are weeks of work at it yet. Only 
one or two streets are so far cleared that the pub- 
lic can use them. No one but the workmen are 
allowed in the others. 

Up Stony Creek Gap, above the contractors, 
the United States Army engineers began work on 
Friday under command of Captain Sears, who 
is here as the personal representative of the 
Secretary of War. The engineers. Captain Berg- 
land's company from Willet's Point, and Lieuten- 
ant Biddle's company from West Point, arrixed 
on Friday night, having been since Tuesday on the 
road from New York. Early in the morning they 
went to work to bridge Stony Creek, and unload- 
ed and launched their heavy pontoons and strung 
them across the streams with a rapidity and skill 
that astonished the natives, who had mistaken 
them, in their coarse, working uniforms of over- 
all stuff, for a fresh gang of laborers. The en- 
gineers, when there are bridges enough laid, 
may be set at other work about town. They have 
a camp of their own on the outskirts of the place. 
There are more constables, watchmen, special 
policemen, and that sort of thing in Johnstown 



■jyA THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

than in any three cities of its size in the country. 
Naturally there is great difficulty in equipping 
them. Badges were easily provided by the clip- 
ping out of stars from pieces of tin, but every 
one had to look out for himself when it came to 
clubs. Everything goes, from a broomstick to a 
base ball bat. The bats are especially popular. 

"I'd like to get the job of handling your paper 
here," said a young fellow to a Pittsburgh news- 
paper man. " You'll have to get some newsman 
to do it anyhow, for your old men have gone 
down, and I and my partner are the only news- 
men in Johnstown above ground." 

The newsdealing business is not the only one 
of which something like that is true. 

There has been a great scarcity of cooking 
utensils ever since the flood. It not only is very 
inconvenient to the people, but tends to the waste 
of a good deal of food. The soldiers are growl- 
ing bitterly over their commissary department. 
They claim that bread, and cheese, and coffee are 
about all they get to eat. 

The temporary electric lights have now been 
strung all along the railroad tracks and through 
the central part of the ruins, so that the place 
after dark is really quite brilliant seen from a dis- 
tance, especially when to the electric display is 
added the red pflow in the mist and smoke of 
huge bonfires. 



THE JOHNSTOIVN FLOOD. -, y :- 

Anybody who has been telegraphing to Johns- 
town this week and getting no answers, would 
understand the reason for the lack of answers if 
he could see the piles of telegrams that are sent 
out -here by train from Pittsburgh. Four thou- 
sand came in one baich on Thursday. Half of 
them are still undelivered, and yet there is proba- 
bly no place in the country where the Western 
Union Company is doing better work than here. 
The flood destroyed not only the company's 
offices, but the greater part of their wires in this 
part of the country. The office they established 
here is in a little shanty with no windows and 
only one door which won't close, and it handles 
an amount of outgoing matter, daily, that would 
swamp nine-tenths of the city offices in the coun- 
try. Incoming business is now received in con- 
siderable quantities, but for several clays so great 
was the pressure of outgoing business that no 
attempt was made to receive any dispatches. 
The whole effort of the office has been to handle 
press matter, and well they have done it. But 
there will be no efficient delivery service for a 
long time. The old inessenger boys are all 
drowned, and the other boys who might make 
messenger boys are also most of them drowned, 
so that the raw material for creating a service is 
very scant. Besides that, nobody knows nowa- 
days where any one else lives. 



oy5 TIIE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

The amateur and professional photographers 
who have overrun the town for the last few days 
came to grief on Friday. A good many of them 
were arrested by the soldiers, placed under a 
guard, taken down to the Stony Creek and set 
to lucfeingf log's and timbers. Amonof those ar- 
rested were several of the newspaper photog- 
raphers, and these General Hastings ordered re- 
leased when he heard of their arrest. The others 
were made to work for half a day. They were a 
mad and disgusted lot, and they vowed all sorts 
of vengeance. It does seem that some notice to 
the effect that photographers were not permitted 
in Johnstown should have been posted before the 
men were arrested. The photographers all had 
passes in regular form, but the soldiers refused 
even to look at these. 

More sightseers got through the guards at 
Bolivar on Friday night, and came to Johnstown 
on the last train. Word was telegraphed ahead, 
and the soldiers met them at the train, put them 
under arrest, kept them over night, and in the 
morning they were set to work in clearing up the 
ruins. 

The special detail of workmen who have been 
at work looking up safes in the ruins and seeing 
that they were taken care of, reports that none of 
the safes have been broken open or otherwise in- 
terfered with. The committee on valuables re- 



THE JOIINSTOnW FLOOD. 



2>77 



ports that quantities of jewelry and money are 
being daily turned into them by people who have 
found them in the ruins. Often the people sur- 
rendering this stuff are evidently very poor them- 
selves. The committee believes that as a eeneral 
thing the people are dealing very honestly in this 
matter of treasure-trove from the ruins. 

Three car-loads of coffins was part of the load 
of one freight train.- Coffins are scattered every- 
where about the city. Scores of them seem to 
have been set down and forgotten. They are 
used as benches, and even, it is said, as beds. 

Grandma Mary Seter, aged eighty-three years, 
a well-known character in Johnstown, who was in 
the water until Saturday, and who, when rescued, 
had her right arm so injured that amputation at 
the shoulder was necessary, is doing finely at the 
hospital, and the doctors expect to have her 
around agfain before lonof. 

One enterprising man has opened a shop for 
the sale of relics of the disaster, and is doing a 
big business. Half the people here are relic 
cranks. Everything goes as a relic, from a 
horseshoe to a two-foot section of iron pipe. 
Buttons and litde things like that, that can easily 
be carried off, are the most popular. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 



A MANTLE of mist hung low over the Cone- 
maugh Valley when the people of Johnstown rose 
on Sunday morning, June 9th ; but about the time 
the two remaining church bells began to toll, the 
sun's rays broke through the fog, and soon the 
sky was clear save for a few white clouds which 
sailed lazily to the Alleghenies. Never in the 
history of Johnstown did congregations attend 
more impressive church services. Some of them 
were held in the open air, others in half-ruined 
buildings, and one only in a church. The cere- 
monies were deeply solemn and touching. Early 
in the forenoon German Catholics picked their 
way through the wreck to the parsonage of St. 
Joseph's, where Fathers Kesbernan and Aid said 
four masses. Next to the parsonage there was a 
great breach in the walls made by the flood, and 
one-half of the parsonage had been carried away. 
At one end of the pastor's reception-room had 

, (378) , 



THE JOHNS 7 WN 1 LOOD. > >- j 

been placed a temporary altar lighted by a solitary 
candle. There were white roses upon it, while 
from the walls, above the muddy stains, hung 
pictures of the Immaculate Conception, the Cru- 
cifixion, and the Virgin Mary. The room was 
filled with worshipers, and the people spread 
out into the lateral hall hangrinor over the cellar 
washed bare of its coverinof. No chairs or benches 
were in the room. There was a deep hush as the 
congregation knelt upon the damp floors, silently 
saying their prayers. With a dignified and serene 
demeanor, the priest went through the services of 
his church, while the people before him were mo- 
tionless, the men with bowed heads, the women 
holding handkerchiefs to their faces. 

Back of this church, on the side of a hill, there 
gathered another congregation of Catholics. Their 
church and parsonage and chapel had all been de- 
stroyed, and they met in a yard near their cemetery. 
A pretty arbor, covered with vines, ran back from 
the street, and beneath this stood their priest, 
Father Tahney, who had worked with them over 
a quarter of a century. His hair was white, but he 
stood erect as he talked to his people. Before 
him was a white altar. This, too, was lighted 
with a single candle. The people stood before 
him and on each side, reverently kneeling on the, 
grass as they prayed. Three masses were said 
by Father Tahney and by Father Matthews, of 



^g2 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

Washington, and then the white-haired priest 
spoke a few words of encouragement to his Hst- 
eners. He urged them to make a manful strug- 
gle to rebuild their homes, to assist one another 
in their distress, and to be grateful to all Ameri- 
cans for the helping hand extended to them. 
Other Catholic services were held at the St. Co- 
lumba's Church, in Cambria, where Father Trout- 
wein, of St. Mary's Church, Fathers Davin and 
Smith said mass and addressed the congregation. 
Father Smith urged them not to sell their lands 
to those who were speculating in men's misery, 
but to be courageous until the city should rise 
again. 

At the Pennsylvania station a meeting was held 
on the embankment overlooking the ruined part 
of the town. The services were conducted by the 
Rev. Mr. McGuire, chaplain of the 14th Regiment. 
The people sang " Come, Thou Fount of Every 
Blessing," and then Mr. McGuire read the psalm 
beginning "I will bless the Lord at all times." 
James Fulton, manager of the Cambria Iron 
Works, spoke encouraging words. He assured 
them that the works would be rebuilt, and that 
the eight thousand employes would be cared for. 
Houses would be built for them and employment 
given to all in restoring the works. There was a 
strained look on men's faces when he told them 
in a low voice that he held the copy of a report 



TIJE JOHNS I OWN FLOOD. ^g-, 

which he had drawn up on the dam, calHng atten- 
tion to the fact that it was extremely dangerous 
to the people living in the valley. 

One of the peculiar things a stranger notices 
in Johnstown is the comparatively small number of 
women seen in the place. Of the throngs who walk 
about the streets searching for dead friends, there 
is not one woman to ten men. Occasionally a little 
group of two or three w^omen with sad faces will 
pick their way about, looking for the morgues. 
There are a few Sisters of Charity, in their black 
robes, seen upon the streets, and in the parts of 
the town not totally destroyed the usual num- 
ber of women are seen in the houses and yards. 
But, as a rule, women are a rarity in Johnstown 
now. This is not a natural peculiarity of Johns- 
town, nor a mere coincidence, but a fact with a 
dreadful reason behind it. There are so many 
more men than women among the living in Johns- 
town now, because there are so many more women 
than men among the dead. Of the bodies re- 
covered there are at least two women for every 
man. Besides the fact that their natural weak- 
ness made them an easier prey to the flood, the 
hour at which the disaster came was one when the 
women would most likely be in their homes and 
the men at work in the open air or in factory 
yards, from which escape was easy. 

Children also are rarely seen about the town, 



-g^ THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

and for a similar reason. They are all dead. 
There is never a group of the dead discovered 
that does not contain from one to three or four 
children for every grown person. Generally the 
children are In the arms of the grown persons, 
and often little toys and trinkets clasped in their 
hands Indicate that the children were caught up 
while at play, and carried as far as possible 
toward safety. 

Johnstown when rebuilt will be a city of many 
widowers and few children. In turning a school- 
house into a morgue the authorities probably did 
a wiser thing than they thought. It will be a long 
time before the school-house will be needed for 
its original purpose. 

The miracle, as It Is called, that happened at 
the Church of the Immaculate Conception, has 
caused a tremendous sensation. A large number 
of persons will testify as to the nature of the 
event, and, to put it mildly, the circumstances are 
really remarkable. The devotions in honor of the 
Blessed Virgin celebrated daily during the month 
of May were in progress on that Friday when 
the water descended on Cambria City. The 
church was filled with people at the time, but 
when the noise of the flood was heard the con- 
gregation hastened to get out of the way. They 
succeeded as far as escaping from the interior is 
concerned, and In a few minutes the church was 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ngc 

partially submerged, the water reaching fifteen 
feet up the sides and swirhng around the corners 
furiously. The building was badly wrecked, the 
benches w^ere torn out, and in general the entire 
structure, both inside and outside, was fairly dis- 
mantled. Yesterday morning, when an entrance 
was forced through the blocked doorway the ruin 
appeared to be complete. One object alone had 
escaped the water's wrath. The statue of the 
Blessed Virgin, that had been decorated and 
adorned because of the May devotions, was as 
unsullied as the day it was made. The flowers, 
the wreaths, the lace veil were undisturbed and 
unsoiled, although the marks on the wall showed 
that the surface of the water had risen above the 
statue to a height of fifteen feet, while the statue 
nevertheless had been saved from all contact with 
the liquid. Every one who has seen the statue 
and its surroundings Is firmly convinced that the 
incident was a miraculous one, and even to the 
most skeptical the affair savors of the super- 
natural. 

A singular feature of the great flood was dis- 
covered at the great stone viaduct about half way 
between Mineral Point and South Fork, At 
Mineral Point the Pennsylvania Railroad is on 
the south side of the river, although the town is 
on the north side. About a mile and a half up 
the stream there was a viaduct built of very solid 



og5 • THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

masonry. It was originally built for the old Port- 
age Road. It was seventy-eight feet above the 
ordinary surface of the water. On this viaduct 
the railroad tracks crossed to the north side of 
the river and on that side ran into South Fork, 
two miles farther up. It is the general opinion 
of engineers that this strong viaduct would have 
stood against the gigantic wave had it not been 
blown up by dynamite. But at South Fork there 
was a dynamite magazine which was picked up 
by the flood and shot down the stream at the rate 
of twenty miles an hour. It struck the stone 
viaduct and exploded. The roar of the flood 
was tremendous, but the noise of this explosion 
was hearH by farmers on the Evanston Road, 
two miles and a half away. Persons living on 
the mountain sides, in view of the river, and who 
saw the explosion, say that the stones of the via- 
duct at the point where the magazine struck it, 
were thrown into the air to the height of two 
hundred feet. An opening was made, and the 
flood of death swept through on its awful errand. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

IT is characteristic of American hopefulness and 
energy that before work was fairly begun on 
clearing away the wreck of the old city, plans 
were being prepared for the new one that should 
arise, Phoenix-like, above its grave. If the future 
policy of the banks and bankers of Johnstown is 
to be followed by the merchants and manufac- 
turers of the city the prospects of a magfiificent 
city rising from the present ruins are of the 
brightest. James McMillen, president of the 
First National and Johnstown Savings Banks, 
said : 

•' The loss sustained by the First National Bank 
will be merely nominal. It did a general com- 
mercial business and very little investing in the 
way of mortgages. When the flood came the cash 
on hand and all our valuable securities and papers 
were locked in the safe and were in no way 
affected by the water. The damage to the build- 
ingitself will be comparatively small. Our capi- 
tal was one hundred thousand dollars, while our 

387 



^38 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

surplus was upwards of forty thousand dollars. 
The depositors of this bank are, therefore, not 
worrying themselves about our ability to meet all 
demands that may be made upon us by them. 
The bank will open up for business within a few 
days as if nothing had happened. 

" As to the Johnstown Savings Bank it had 
probably ;^200,ooo invested in mortgages on 
property in Johnstown, but the wisdom of our 
policy in the past in making loans has proven of 
great value to us in the present emergency. Since 
we first beo-an business we have refused to make 
loans to parties on property where the lot itself 
would not be of sufficient value to indemnify us 
against loss in case of the destruction of the 
building. If a man owned a lot worth $2,000 and 
had on it a building worth $100,000 we would 
refuse to loan over the $2,000 on the property. 
The result is that the lots on which the buildinors 
stood in Johnstown, on which $200,000 of our 
money is loaned, are worth double the amount, 
probably, that we have invested in them. 

" What will be the effect of the flood on the 
value of lots in Johnstown proper ? Well, in- 
stead of decreasing, they have already advanced 
in value. This will bring outside capital to Johns- 
town, and a real estate boom is bound to follow 
in the wake of this destruction. All the people 
want is an assurance that the banks are safe and 



THE J OHNS TO I VN FL OOD. o g g 

will open up for business at once. With that 
f(^eling they have started to work with a vim. We 
have in this bank $300,000 invested in Govern- 
ment bonds and other securities that can be con- 
verted into cash on an hour's notice. We propose 
to keep these things constantly before our busi- 
ness men as an impetus to rebuilding our princi- 
pal business blocks as soon as possible." 

" What do you think of the idea projected by 
Captain W, R. Jones, to dredge and lower the 
river bed about thirty feet and adding seventy per 
cent, to its present width, as a precautionary 
measure against future washouts?" 

"I not only lieartily indorse that scheme, but 
have positive assurance from other leading busi- 
ness men that the idea will be carried out, as it 
certainly should be, the moment the work of 
cleaning away the debris is completed. Besides 
that, a scheme is on foot to get a charter for the 
city of Johnstown which will embrace all those 
surrounding boroughs. In the event of that be- 
ing done, and I am certain it will be, the plan of 
the city will be entirely changed and made to cor- 
respond with the best laid-out cities in the country. 
In ten years Johnstown will be one of the prettiest 
and busiest cities in the world, and nothino- can 
prevent it. The streets will be widened and prob- 
ably made to start from a common centre^ some- 
thing after the fashion of Washington City, with a 



OQO THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

little more regard for the value of property. With 
the Cambria Iron Company, the Gautier Steel 
Works, and other manufactories, as well as yearly 
increasing railroad facilities, Johnstown has a start 
which will grow in a short time to enormous pro- 
portions. From a real estate standpoint the flood 
has been a benefit beyond a doubt. Another ad- 
dition to the city will be made in the shape of an 
immense water-main to connect with a magnifi- 
cent reservoir of the finest water in the world to 
be located in the mountains up Stony Creek for 
supplying the entire city as contemplated in the 
proposed new charter. This plant was well under 
way when the flood came, and about ten thousand 
dollars had already been expended on it which 
has been lost." 

Mr. John Roberts, the surviving partner of the 
banking-house of John Dibert & Company, said : 

•' Aside from the loss to our own building we 
have come out whole and entire. We had no 
money invested in mortgages in Johnstown that 
is not fully indemnified by the lots themselves. 
Most of our money is invested in property in 
Somerset County, where Mr. Dibert was raised. 
We will exert every influence in our power to 
place the city on a better footing than was ever 
before. The plan of raising the city or lowering 
the bed of the river as well as widening its banks 
will surely be carried out. In addition, I think 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



391 



the idea of changing the plan of the city and em- 
bracing Johnstown and the surrounding buroughs 
in one large city will be one of the greatest bene- 
fits the flood could have wrought to the future 
citizens of Johnstown and the Conemough 
Valley. 

"I have been chairman of our Finance Com- 
mittee of Councils for ten years past, and I know 
the trouble we have had with our streets and 
alleys and the necessity of a great change. In 
order to put the city in the proper shape to insure 
commercial growth and topographical beauty, 
>we will be ready for business in a few days, and 
enough money will be put into circulation in the 
valley to give the people encouragement in the 
work of rebuilding." 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

AMONG the travelers who were In or near 
the Coneniaugh Valley at the time of the 
flood, and who thus narrowly escaped the doom 
that swallowed up thousands of their fellow-mor- 
tals, was Mr. William Henry Smith, General 
Manager of the Associated Press. He remained 
there for some time and did valuable work in di- 
recting the operations of news-gatherers and in 
the general labors of relief. 

The wife and daughter of Mr. E. W. Halford, 
private secretary to President Harrison, were 
also there. They made their way to Washington 
on Thursday, to Mr. Halford's inexpressible re- 
lief, they having at first been reported among the 
lost. On their arrival at the Capital they went at 
once to the Executive Mansion, where the mem- 
bers of the Executive household were awaiting 
them with p^reat interest. The ladies lost all their 
baggage, but were thankful for their almost 
miraculous delivery from the jaws of death. 
Mrs. Harrison's eyes were suffused with tears as 

39? 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ^^X 

she listened to the dreadful narrative. The Presi- 
dent was also deeply moved. From the first 
tidings of the dire calamity his thoughts have 
been absorbed in sympathy and desire to alleviate 
the sufferings of the devastated region. The 
manner of the escape of Mrs. Halford and her 
daughter has already been told. When the alarm 
was oriven, she and her dauo-hter rushed with the 
other passengers out of the car and took refuge 
on the mountain side by climbing up the rocky 
excavation near the track. Mrs. Halford was in 
delicate health owing to bronchial troubles. She 
has borne up well under the excitement, exposure, 
fatigue, and horror of her experiences, 

Mrs. George W. Childs was also reported 
among the lost, but incorrectly. Mr. Childs re- 
ceived word on Thursday for the first time di- 
rect from his wife, who was on her way West to 
visit Miss Kate Drexel when detained by the 
flood. Indirectly he had heard she was all right. 
The teleg-ram notified him that Mrs. Childs was 
at Altoona, and could 'not move either way, but 
was perfectly safe. 

George B. Roberts, President of the Pennsyl- 
vania Railway Company, was obliged to issue the 
following card : " In consequence of the terrible 
calamity that has fallen upon a community which 
has such close relations to the Pennsylvania Rail- 
way Company, Mr. and Mrs. George B. Roberts 



2^4 ' THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

feel compelled to withdraw their invitations for 
Thursday, June 6th," Mr. and Mrs. Charles E. 
Pugh also felt obliged to withdraw their invlta- 
dons for Wednesday, June 5th. 

The Rev. J. A. Ranney, of Kalamazoo, Mich., 
and his wife were passengers on one of the trains 
wrecked by the Conemaugh flood. Mr. Ranney 
said : 

"Mrs. Ranney and I were on one of the trains 
at Conemaug^h when the flood came. There was 
but a moment's warning and the disaster was 
• upon us. The occupants of our car rushed for 
the door, where Mrs. Ranney and I became sepa- 
rated. She was one of the first to jump, and I 
saw her run and disappear behind the first house 
in sight. Before I could get out the deluge was 
too high, and, with a number of others, I remained 
in the car. Our car was lifted up and dashed 
against a car loaded with stone and badly wrecked, 
but most of the occupants of this car were res- 
cued. As far as I know all who jumped from the 
car lost their lives. The remainder of the train 
was swept away. I searched for days for Mrs. 
Ranney, but could find no trace of her. I think 
she perished. The mind cannot conceive the 
awful sight presented when we first saw the dan- 
ger. The approaching wall of water looked like 
Niagara, and huge engines were caught up and 
whirled away as if they were mere wheel-bar- 
rows." 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



!95 



D. B. Cummins, of Philadelphia, the President 
of the Girard National Bank, was one of the party 
of four which consisted of John Scott, Solicitor- 
General of the Pennsylvania Railroad ; Edmund 
Smith, ex-Vice-PresIdent of the same company ; 
and Colonel Welsh himself, who had been stop- 
ping in the country a few miles back of Williams- 
port. 

Mr. Cummins, in talking of the condition of 
things in that vicinity and of his experience, said : 
"W^e were trout-fishing at Anderson's cabin, 
about fourteen miles from WIlliamsport,at the time 
the flood started. We went to Willlamsport, in- 
tending to take a train for Philadelphia. Of course, 
when we got there we found everything In a fright- 
ful condition, and the people completely disheart- 
ened by the flood. Fortunately the loss of life 
was very slight, especially when compared with 
the terrible disaster in Johnstown. The loss, from 
a financial standpoint, will be very great, for the 
city is completely inundated, and the lumber 
industry seriously crippled. Besides, the stag- 
nation of business for any length of time produces 
results which are disastrous." 

The first passengers that came from Altoona 
to New York by the Pennsylvania Railroad since 
the floods included five members of the " Night 
Off^" Company, which played In Johnstown on 
Thursday night, about whom considerable anxiety 
was felt for some time, till E. A. Eberle received 



^q5 the JOHNSTOWN flood. 

telegrams xrom his wife, the contents of wnich he 
at once gave to the press. Mrs, Eberle was 
among the five who arrived. 

" No words can tell the horrors of the scenes 
we witnessed," she said in answer to a request 
for an account of her experiences, " and nothing 
that has been published can convey any idea of 
the awful havoc wrought in those few but ap- 
parently never-ending minutes in which the worst 
of the flood passed us. 

" Our company left Johnstown on Friday morn- 
ing. We only got two miles away, as far as 
Conemaugh, when we were stopped by a land- 
slide a little way ahead. About noon we went to 
dinner, and soon after we came back some of our 
company noticed that the flood had extended and 
v/as washing away the embankment on which our 
train stood. Thev called the engineer's attention 
to the fact, and he took the train a few hundred 
feet further. It was fortunate he did so, for a 
little while after the embankment caved in. 

" Then we could not move forward or back- 
ward, as ahead was the landslide and behind there 
was no track. Even then we were not frightened, 
and it was not till about three o'clock, when we 
saw a heavy iron bridge go down as if it were 
made of paper, that we began to be seriously 
alarmed. Just before the dam broke a gravel 
train came tearing down, with the engine giving 
out the most awful shriek I ever heard. Every 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. -^QQ 

one recocrnized that this was a note of warnine. 
We fled as hard as we could run down the em- 
bankment, across a ditch, and for a distance equal 
to about two blocks up the hillside. Once I 
turned to look at the vast wall of water, but was 
hurried on by my friends. When I had gone 
about the distance of another block the head 
ot the flooci had passed far away, and with it 
went houses, cars, locomotives, everything- that a 
few minutes before had made up a busy scene. 
The wall of water looked to be fifty feet high. It 
was of a deep yellow color, but the crest was white 
with foam, 

" Three of us reached the house of Mrs- 
William Wright, who took us in and treated us 
most kindly. I did not take any account of time, 
but I imao-ine It was about an hour before the 
water ceased to rush past the house. The con- 
ductor of our train, Charles A. Wartham, behaved 
with the greatest bravery. He took a crippled 
passenger on his back in the rush up the hill. A 
fl )ating house struck the cripple, carried him 
away and tore some of the clothes offWartham's 
back, and he managed to struggle on and save 
himself. Our ride to Ebensburg, sixteen miles, 
in a lumber wagon without springs, was trying, 
but no one thought of complaining. Later In the 
day we were sent to Cresson and thence to 
Altoona." 
23 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

NO travelers in an upheaved and disorganized 
land push through with more pluck and 
courage than the newspaper correspondents. 
Accounts have already been given of some of 
their experiences, A writer in the New York 
'Jimes thus told of his, a week after the events 
described : 

"A man who starts on a journey on ten min- 
utes' notice likes the journey to be short, with a 
promise of success and of food and clothes at its 
end. Starting suddenly a week ago, the limes s 
correspondent has since had but a small measure 
of success, a smaller measure of food, and for nights 
no rest at all ; a long tramp across the Blue Hills 
and Allegheny Mountains, behind jaded horses ; 
helping to push up-hill the wagon they tried to pull 
or to lift the vehicle up and down bridges whose 
approaches were torn away, or in and out of fords 
the pathways to which had disappeared ; and in 
the blackness of the night, scrambling through gul- 
lies in the pike road made by the storm, paved 
400 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ^01 

with sharp and treacherous rocks and traversed 
by swift-running streams, whose roar was the only 
guide to their course. All this prepared a weary 
reporter to welcome the bed of straw he found in 
a Johnstown stable loft last Monday, and on which 
he has reposed nightly ever since. 

" And let me advise reporters and other persons 
who are liable to sudden missions to out-of-the- 
way places not to wear patent leather shoes. 
They are no good for mountain roads. This is 
the result of sad experience. Wetness and stone 
bruises are the benisons they confer on feet that 
tread rough paths. 

''The quarter past twelve train was the 
one boarded by the Times s correspondent and 
three other reporters on their way hither a week 
ago Friday night. It was in the minds of all that 
they would get as far as Altoona, on the Pennsyl- 
vania Road, and thence by wagon to this place. 
But all were mistaken. At Philadelphia we were 
told that there were wash-outs in many places and 
bridges were down everywhere, so that we would 
be lucky if we got even to Harrisburg. This was 
harrowine news. It caused such' a searching" of 
time-tables and of the map of Pennsylvania as 
those things were rarely ever subjected to before. 
It was at last decided that if the Pennsylvania 
Railroad stopped at Harrisburg an attempt would 
be made to reach the Baltimore and Ohio Rail- 



MQ2 THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

road at Martlnsburg-, West Virginia, by way of 
the Cumberland Railroad, a train on which was 
scheduled to leave Harrisburg" ten minutes after 
the arrival of the Pennsylvania train. 

" It was only too evident to us, long before we 
reached Harrisburg, that we would not get to the 
West out of that city. The Susquehanna had 
risen far over its banks, and for miles our train 
ran slowly with the water close to the fire-box of 
the locomotive and over the lower steps of the car 
platform. At last we reached the station. Sev- 
eral energetic Philadelphia leporters had come on 
with us from that lively city, expecting to go 
straight to Johnstown. As they left the train one 
cried : ' Hurrah, boys, there's White. He'll know 
all about it.' White stood placidly on the steps, 
and knew nothing more than that he and several 
other Philadelphia reporters, who had started Fri- 
day night, had got no further than the Harrisburg 
station, and were in a state of wonderment, leav- 
ing them to think our party caught. 

" As the Cumberland Valley train was pulling 
out of the station, its conductor, a big, genial fel- 
low, who seemed to know everybody in the valley, 
was loth to express an opinion as to whether we 
would eet to Martinsburof, He would take us as 
far as he could, and then leave us to work out our 
own salvation. He could give us no information 
about the Baltimore and Ohio Road. Hope and 



THE JOIINSTOIVN FLOOD. >q^ 

fear chased one another in our midst; hope that 
trains were running on that road, and fear thiat it, 
too, had been stopped by wash-outs. In the lat- 
t- r case it seemed to us that we should be com- 
pelled to return to Harrisburg and sit down to 
think with our Philadelphia brethren. 

The Cumberland Valley train took us to Ha- 
gerstown, and there the big and genial conductor 
told us it would stay, as it could not cross the 
Potomac to reach Martinsburg. We were twelve 
miles from the Potomac and twenty from Martins- 
buro". Fortunately, a construction train was eo- 
ing to the river to repair some small wash-outs, 
and Major Ives, the engineer of the Cumberland 
Valley Road, took us upon it, but he smiled piti- 
fully when we told him we were going across the 
bridge, 

" ' Why, man,' he said to the Times s corres- 
pondent, ' the Potomac is higher than it was in 
1877, and there's no telling when the bridge will 
go.' 

" At the bridge was a throng of country people 
waiting to see it go down, and wondering how 
many more blows it would stand from foundering 
canal-boats, washed out of the Chesapeake and 
Ohio Canal, whose lines had already disappeared 
under the flood. A quick survey of the bridge 
showed that its second section was weakening, 
and had already bent several inches, making a 
slight concavity on the upper side. 



^Q^ THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

" No time was to be lost if we were going to 
Martinsburg. The country people murmured 
disapproval, but we went on the bridge, and were 
soon crossing it on the one-foot plank that served 
for a footwalk. It was an unpleasant walk. The 
river was roaring below us. To yield to the fasci- 
nation of the desire to look between the railroad 
ties at the foaming water was to throw away our 
lives. Then that fear that the tons of drift stuff 
piled against the upper side of the bridge, would 
suddenly throw it over, was a cause of anything 
but confidence. But we held our breath, balanced 
ourselves, measured our steps, and looked far 
ahead at the hills on the Western Virtrinia 
shore. At last the firm embankment was reached, 
and four reporters sent up one sigh of relief and 

joy. 

" Finding two teams, we were soon on our way 
to Martinsburgf. 

"The Potomac was nine feet higher than it was 
ever known to be before, and it was out for more 
than a mile beyond the tracks of the Cumberland 
Valley Railroad at Falling Waters, where it had 
carried away several houses. This made the route 
to Martinsburg twice as long as it otherwise 
would have been. To weary, anxious reporters 
it seemed four times as long, and that we should 
never get beyond the village of Falling Waters. It 
confronted us at every turn of the crooked way, 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ,qc 

until it became a source of pain. It is a pretty 
place, but we were yearning- for Johnstown, not 
for rural beauty. 

" All roads have an end, and Farmer Sperow's 
teams at last dragged us into Martinsburg, Little 
comfort was in store for us there. No train had 
arrived there for more than twenty-four hours. 
Farmer Sperow was called on to take us back to 
the river, our instructions being to cross the 
bridge again and take a trip over the mountains. 
Hope gave way to utter despair when we learned 
that the bridge had fallen twenty minutes after 
our passage. We had put ourselves Into a pickle. 
Chief Engineer Ives and his assistant, Mr. 
Schoonmaker joined us a little while later. They 
had followed us across the bridge and been cut off 
also. They were needed at Harrisburg, and they 
backed up our effort to get a special train to go 
to the Shenandoah Valley Road's bridge, twenty- 
five miles away, which was reported to be yet 
standing. 

" The Baltimore and Ohio officials were obdu- 
rate. They did not know enough about the tracks 
to the eastward to experiment with a train on 
them in the dark. They promised to make up a 
train in the morning. Wagons would not take 
us as soon. A drearier night was never passed 
by men with their hearts In their work. Morning 
came at last and with it the news that the road to 



^q5 ^-^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

the east was passable nearly to Harper's Ferry. 
Lots of Martinsburof folks wanted to see the 
sights at the Ferry, and we had the advantage of 
their society on an excursion train as far as Shen- 
andoah Junction, where Mr. Ives had telegraphed 
for a special to come over -and meet us if the 
bridge was standing. 

"The telegraph kept us informed about the 
movement of the train. When we learned that 
it had tested and crossed the bridge our joy was 
modified only by the fear that we had made fools 
of ourselves in leaving Harrisbure, and that the 
more phlegmatic Philadelphia reporters had 
already got to Johnstown. But this fear was soon 
dissipated. The trainman knew that Harrisburg 
was inundated and no train had eone west for 
nearly two clays. A new fear took its place. It 
was that New York men, starting behind us, had 
got into Johnstown through Pittsburg by way of 
the New York Central and its connections. No 
telegrams were penned with more conflicting 
emotions sureinof throuMi the writer than those 
by which the TzW^i-correspondentmade it known 
that he had got out of the Martinsburg pocket 
and was about to make a wagon journey of one 
hundred and ten miles across the mountains, and 
asked for information as to whether any Eastern 
man had got to the scene of the flood. 

" The special train took us to Chambersburg, 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD, .^y 

where Superintendent Riddle, of the Cumberland 
Valley Road, had information that four Phila- 
delphia men were on their way thither, and had 
engaged a team to take them on the first stage of 
the overland trip. A wild rush was made for 
Schiner's livery, and in ten minutes we were b,ovvl- 
ing over the pike toward McConnellsburg, having 
already sent thither a telegraphic order for fresh 
teams. The train from Harrisburg was due in 
five minutes when we started. As we mounted 
each hill we eagerly scanned the road behind 
for pursuers. They never came in sight. 

" In McConnellsburg the entire town had heard 
of our cominsf, and were out to orreet us with 
cheers. They knew our mission and that a party 
of competitors was tracking us. Landlord Prosser, 
of the Fulton Hotel, had his team ready, but said 
there had been an enormous wash-out near the 
Juniata River, beyond which he could not take us. 
We would have to walk through the break in the 
pike and cross the river on a bridge tottering on 
a few supports. Telegrams to Everett for a team 
to meet us beyond the river and take us to Bed- 
ford, and to the latter place for a team to make 
the journey across the Allegehenies to Johnstown 
settled all our plans. 

"As well as we could make it out by telegraphic 
advices, we were an hour ahead of the Philadel- 
phlans. Ten minutes was not, therefore, too 



^Qg THE JOHNS TO VVN FL O OD. 

long- for supper. Landlord Prosser took die reins 
himself and we started again, with a hurrah from 
the populace. As it was Sunday, they would sell 
us nothing, but storekeeper Young and telegraph 
operator Sloan supplied us with tobacco and 
other little comforts, our stock of which had been 
exhausted. It will gratify our Prohibition friends 
to learn that whisky was not among them. Mc- 
Connellsburg is, unfortunately, a dry town for the 
time being. It was a long and weary pull to the 
top of Sidling Hill. To ease up on the team, we 
walked the greater part of the way. A short de- 
scent and a straight run took us to the banks of 
Licking Creek. 

" Harrisonville was just beyond, and Harrison- 
ville had been under a raging flood, which had 
weakened the props of the bridge and washed 
out the road for fifty feet beyond it. The only 
thincr to do was to unhitch and lead the horses 
over the bridge and through the gully. This was 
difficult, but it was finally accomplished. The 
more difficult task was to get the wagon over. A 
lono- pull, with many strong lifts, in which some of 
the natives aided, took it down from the bridge 
and through the break, but at the end there 
were more barked shins and bruised toes than 
any other four men ever had in common. 

" It was a quick ride from Everett to Bedford, 
for our driver had a good wagon and a speedy 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ^qq 

team. Arriving at Bedford a little after two 
o'clock in the morning, we found dispatches that 
cheered us, for they told us that we had made no 
mistake, and might reach the scene of disaster 
first. Only a reporter who has been on a mission 
similar to this can tell the joy imparted by a dis- 
patch like this : 

" * New York — Nobody is ahead of you. Go it.' 
"At four o'clock in the morningr we started on 
our long trip of forty miles across the Alleghenies 
to Johnstown. Pleasantville was reached at half- 
past six A. M. Now the road became bad, and 
everybody but the driver had to walk. Footsoie 
as we were, we had to clamber over rocks and 
through mud in a driving rain, v^diich wet us 
through. For ten miles we went thus dismally. 
Ten miles from Johnstown we got in the wagon, 
and every one promptly went to sleep, at the risk 
of being throv/n out at any time as the wagon 
jolted along. '1 ired nature could stand no more, 
and we slumbered peacefully until four half- 
drunken special policemen halted us at the 
entrance to Johnstown. Argument with them 
stirred us up, and we got into town and saw what 
a ruin it was." 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 



Nor was the life of the correspondents at Johns- 
town altogether a happy one. The hfe of a news- 
paper man is filled with vicissitudes. Sometimes 
he feeds on the fat of the land, and at others he 
feeds on air ; but as a rule he lives comfortably, 
and has as much satisfaction in life as other men. 
It may safely be asserted, however, that such ex- 
periences as the special correspondents of Eastern 
papers have met with in Johnstown are not easily 
paralleled. When a war correspondent goes on 
a campaign he is prepared for hardship and makes 
provision against it. He has a tent, blankets, 
heavy overcoat, a horse, and other things which 
are necessaries of life in the open air. But the 
men who came hurrying to Johnstown to fulfill 
the invaluable mission of letting the world know 
just what was the matter were not well provided 
against the suffering set before them. 

The first informatioft of the disaster was sent 
(410) 



77;/s J O UN STOW N J-LOOD. 



411 



out by the Associated Press on the evening of its 
occurrence. The destruction of wires made it 
impossible to give as full an account as would 
otherwise have been sent, but the dispatches con- 
vinced the managing editors of the wide-awake 
papers that a calamity destined to be one of the 
most fearful In all human history had fallen upon 
the peaceful valley of the Conemaugh. All the 
leading Eastern papers started men for Philadel- 
phia at once. From Philadelphia these men went 
to Harrisburg. There were many able r< pre- 
sentatives In the party, and they are rcaJy to 
wao-er lanje amounts that there was never at any 
place a crowd of newspaper men so absolutely 
and hopelessly stalled as they were there. Bridges 
were down and the roadway at many places was 
carried away. 

Then came the determined and exhausting 
struo-orle to reach Johnstown. The stories of the 
different trips have been told. From Saturday 
morning till Monday morning the correspondents 
fought a desperate battle against the raging 
floods, risking their lives again and again to reach 
the city. At one place they footed it across a 
bridee that ten minutes later went swirlinf^ down 
the mad torrent to Instant destruction. Again 
they hired carriages and drove over the mount- 
ains, literally wading Into swollen streams and 
carrying their vehicles across. Finally one party 



4 1 2 ^^^^ JOHNS TO WN FL O OD. 

caught a Baltimore and Ohio special train and 
got into Johnstown. 

It was Monday. There was nothing to eat. 
The men were exhausted, hungry, thirsty, sleepy. 
Their work was there, however, and had to be 
done. Where was the telegraph office ? Gone 
down the Conemaugh Valley to hopeless oblivion. 
But the duties of a telegraph company are as im- 
perative as those of a newspaper. General Man- 
ager Clark, of Pittsburgh, had sent out a force of 
twelve operators, under Operator Munson as 
manager pi^o tern., to open communications at 
Johnstown. The Pennsylvania Railroad rushed 
them through to the westerly end of the fatal 
bridge. Smoke and the pall of death were upon 
it. Ruin and devastation were all around. To 
get wires into the city proper was out of the ques- 
tion. Nine wires were o-ood between the west" 
end of the bridge and Pittsburgli. The telegraph 
force found, just south of the track, on the side of 
the hill overlooking the whole scene of Johns- 
town's destruction, a miserable hovel which had 
been used for the storage of o'l barrels. The in- 
terior was as dark as a tomb, and smellecl like the 
concentrated essence of petroleum itself The 
floor was a slimy mass of black grease. It was 
no time for delicacy. In went the operators with 
their relay instruments and keys ; out went the 
barrels. Rough shelves were thrown up to take 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



41, 



copy on, and some old chairs were subsequendy 
secured. Tallow dips direw a fitful red glare 
upon the scene. The operators were ready. 

Toward dusk ten haggard and exhausted New 
York correspondents came staggering up the hill- 
side. They found the entire neighborhood infest- 
ed with Pittsburgh reporters, who had already 
secured all the good places, such as they were, 
for work, and were busily engaged in wiring 
to tlieir offices awful tales of Hungarian depre- 
dations upon dead bodies, and lynching affairs 
which never occurred. One paper had eighteen 
men there, and others had almost an equal 
number. The New York correspondents were 
in a terrible condition. Some of them had 
started from their offices without a change of 
clothing, and had managed to buy a flannel shirt 
or two and some footwear, including the abso- 
lutely necessary rubber boots, on the way. Others 
had no extra coin, and were wearing the low-cut 
shoes which they had on at starting. One or two 
of them were so worn out that they turned dizzy 
and sick at the stomach when they attempted to 
write. But the work had to be done. Just south 
of the telegraph office stands a two-story frame 
building In a state of dilapidation. It is flanked 
on each side by a shed, and its lower story, with 
an earth floor, is used for the storage of fire bricks. 
The second-story floor is full of great gaps, and 



. J . THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

the entire building is as draughty as a seive and 
as dusty as a country road in a drought. The 
Associated Press and the Herald took the second 
floor, the Times, Tribune, Sun^ Morning yournal, 
World, Philadelphia Press, Baltimore Sun, and 
Pittsburgh Post took possession of the first floor, 
using the sheds as day outposts. Some old bar- 
rels were found inside. They were turned up on 
end, some boards were picked up outdoors and 
laid on them, and seats were improvised out of 
the fire-bricks. Candles were borrowed from the 
telegraph men, who were hammering away at 
their instruments and turning pale at the pros- 
pect, and the work of sending dispatches to the 
papers began. 

Not a man had assuaged his hunger. Not a 
man knew where he was to rest. All that the 
operators could take, and a great deal more, was 
filed, and then the correspondents began to think 
of themselves. Two tents, a colored cook, and 
provisions had been sent up from Pittsburgh for 
the operators. The tents were pitched on the 
side of the hill, just over the telegraph "office," 
and the colored cook utilized the natural gas of a 
brick-kiln just behind them. The correspondents 
procured little or nothing to eat that night. Some 
of them plodded wearily across the Pennsylvania 
bridge and into the city, out to the Baltimore 
and Ohio tracks, and into the car in which they 



THE JOtiNSTO WN- FL O OD. . j « 

had arrived. There they slept, in all their cloth- 
ing, in miserably-cramped positions on the seats. 
In the morning they had nothing to wash in but 
the polluted waters of the Conemaugh. Others, 
who had no claim on the car, moved to pity a 
night watchman, who took them to a large barn 
in Cambria City. There they slept in a hay-loft, 
to the tuneful piping of hundreds of mice, the 
snorting of horses and cattle, the nocturnal danc- 
ing of dissipated rats, and the solemn rattle of 
cow chains. 

In the morning all hands were out bright and 
early, sparring for food. The situation was des- 
perate. There was no such thing in the place as 
a restaurant or a hotel ; there was no such thing 
as a store. The few remaining houses were over- 
crowded with survivors who had lost all. They 
could get food by applying to the Relief Com- 
mittee. The correspondents had no such privi- 
lege. They had plenty cf money, but there was 
nothing for sale. They ^ould not beg nor bor- 
row ; they wouldn't st'^al. Finally, they pre- 
vailed upon a pretty Pennsylvania mountain 
woman, with fair skin, gray eyes, and a delicious 
way of saying "You un's," to give them some- 
thing to eat. She fried them some tough pork, 
o-ave them some bread, and made them some 
coffee without milk and sugar. The first man 
that stayed his hunger was so glad that he gave 
24 



.jg THE JOHNSTOWhr FLOOD. 

her a dollar, and that became her upset price. It 
cost a dollar to go in and look around after that. 

Then Editor Walters, of Pittsburgh, a great 
big man with a great big heart, ordered up $150 
worth of food from Pittsburgh. He got a Ger- 
man named George Esser, in Cambria City, to 
cook at his house, which had not been carried 
away, and the boys were mysteriously informed that 
they could get meals at the German's. He was 
supposed to be one of the dread Hungarians, and 
the boys christened his place the Cafe Hungaria. 
They paid fifty cents apiece to him for cooking 
the meals, but it was three days before the secret 
leaked out that Mr. Walters supplied the food. 
If ever Mr. Walters gets into a tight place he has 
only to telegraph to New York, and twenty grate- 
ful men will do anything in their power to repay 
his kindness. 

Then the routine of Johnstown life for the cor- 
respondents became settled. At night they slept 
in the old car or the hay-mow or elsewhere. They 
breakfasted at the Caf(§ Hungaria. Then they 
went forth to their work. They had to walk 
everywhere. Over the mountains, through briers 
and among rocks, down in the valley in mud up 
to their knees, they tramped over the whole dis- 
trict lying between South Fork and New Flor- 
ence, a distance of twenty-three miles, to gather 
the details of the frightful calamity. Luncheon 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. . jq 

was a rare and radiant luxury. Dinner was eaten 
at the cafe. Copy was written everywhere and 
anywhere. 

Constant struggles were going on between cor- 
respondents and policemen or deputy sheriffs. 
The countersign was given out incorrectly to the 
newspaper men one night, and many of them had 
much trouble. At night the boys traversed 
the place at the risk of life and limb. Two 
Times vci.^Vi spent an hour and a half going two 
miles to the car for rest one night. The city — 
or what had been the city — was wrapped in Cim- 
merian darkness, only intensified by the feeble 
glimmer of the fires of the night guards. The 
two correspondents almost fell through a pontoon 
bridge into the Conemaugh. Again they almost 
walked into the pit full of water where the gas 
tank had been. At length they met two guards 
going to an outlying post near the car with a 
lantern. These men had lived in Johnstown all 
their lives. Three times they were lost on their 
way over. Another correspondent fell down three 
or four slippery steps one night and sprained his 
ankle, but he gritted his teeth and stuck to his 
work. One of the Times men tried to sleeji in 
a hay-mow one night, but at one o'clock he was 
driven out by the rats. He wandered about till 
he found a night watchman, who escorted him to 
a brick-kiln. Attired in all his clothing, his mack- 



42 o 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



intosh, rubber boots, and hat, and with his hand- 
kerchief for a pillow, he stretched himself upon 
a plank on top of the bricks inside the kiln and 
slept one solitary hour. It was the third hour's 
sleep he had enjoyed in seventy-two hours. The 
next morning he looked like a paralytic tramp 
who had been hauled out of an ash-heap. 

Another correspondent fell through an opening 
in the Pennsylvania bridge and landed in a cul- 
vert several feet below. His left eye was almost 
knocked out, and he had to go to one of the hos- 
pitals for treatment. But he kept at his work. 
The more active newspaper men were a sight by 
Wednesday. They knew it. They had their pic- 
tures taken. They call the group " The Johns- 
town Sufferers." Their costumes are picturesque. 
One of them — a dramatically inclined youth some- 
times called Romeo — wears a pair of low shoes 
which are incrusted with yellow mud, a pair of 
gray stained trousers, a yellow corduroy coat, a 
flaruiel shirt, a soft hat of a dirty greenish-brown 
tint, and a rubber overcoat with a cape. And still 
he is not happy. 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 



The storm that filled Conemaugh Lake and 
burst its bounds also wrought sad havoc else- 
where. Williamsport, Pa., underwent the ex- 
perience of being flooded with thirty-four feet of 
water, of having the Susquehanna boom taken 
out with two hundred million feet of logs, over 
forty million feet of sawed lumber taken, mills 
carried away and others wrecked, business and 
industrial establishments wrecked, and a large 
number of lives lost. The flood was nearly 
seven feet higher than the great high water of 
1865. 

Early on Friday news came of the flood at 
Clearfield, but it was not before two o'clock Sat- 
urday morning that the swelling water began to 
become prominent, the river then showing a rise 
averaging two feet to the hour. Steadily and 
rapidly thereafter the rise continued. The rain 
up the country had been terrific, and from Thurs- 

U21) 



422 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



day afternoon, throughout the night, and during 
Friday and Friday night, the rain fell here with 
but little interruption. After midnight Friday it 
came down in absolute torrents until nearly day- 
light Saturday morning. As a result of this rise, 
Grafins Run, a small stream running through the 
city from northwest to southeast, was raised until 
it flooded the whole territory on either side of it. 

Soon after daylight, the rain having ceased, the 
stream began to subside, and as the river had not 
then reached an alarming height, very few were 
concerned over the outlook. The water kept 
getting higher and higher, and spreading out over 
the lower streets. At about nine o'clock in the 
forenoon the logs began to go down, filling the 
stream from bank to bank. The water had by 
this time reached almost the stage of 1865. It 
was coming up Third Street to the Court-house, 
and was up Fourth Street to Market. Not long 
after it reached Third Street on William, and ad- 
vanced up Fourth to Pine. Its onward prog- 
ress did not stop, however, as it rose higher 
on Third Street, and soon began to reach Fourth 
Street both at Elmlra and Locust Streets. No 
one along Fourth between William and Hepburn 
had any conception that it would trouble them, 
but the sequel proved they were mistaken. 

Soon after noon the water began crossing the 
railroad at Walnut and Campbell Streets, and 



riJE JOllA'STUyi'iV FLOOD. 



42. 



soon all the country north of the railroad was 
submerged, that part along the run being for the 
second time during the day flooded. The rise 
kept on until nine o'clock at night, and after that 
hour it began to go slowly the other way. By 
daylight Sunday morning it had fallen two feet, 
and that receding continued during the day. 
When the water was at its highest the memorable 
sight was to be seen of a level surface of water 
extending from the northern line of the city from 
Rural Avenue on Locust Street, entirely across 
the city to the mountain on the south side. This 
meant that the water was six feet deep on the 
floors of the buildings in Market Square, over 
four feet deep in the station of the Pennsylvania 
Railroad and at the Park Hotel. Fully three- 
quarters of the city was submerged. 

The loss was necessarily enormous. It was 
heaviest on the lumbermen. All the logs were 
lost, and a large share of the cut lumber. 

The loss of life was heavy. 

A general meeting of lumbermen was held, to 
take action on the question of looking after the 
lost stock. A comparison as to losses was made, 
but many of those present were unable to give an 
estimate of the amount they had lost. It was 
found that the aggregate of logs lost from the 
boom was about two hundred million feet, and 
the aggregate of manufactured lumber fully forty 



424 



THE Johnstown flood. 



million feet. The only scw-mill taken was the 
Beaver mill structure, which contained two mills, 
that of S. Mack Taylor and the Williamsport 
Lumber Company. It went down stream just as 
it stood, and lodged a few miles below the city. 

A member of the Philadelphia Times staff tel- 
egraphed from Williamsport : — 

"Trusting to the strong arms of brave John 
Nichol, I safely crossed the Susquehanna at Mont- 
gomery in a small boat, and met Superintendent 
Westfall on the other side on an engine. We 
went to where the Northern Central crosses the 
river again to Williamsport, where it is wider and 
swifter. The havoc everywhere is dreadful. 
Most of the farmers for miles and miles have 
lost their stock and crops, and some their horses 
and barns. In one place I saw thirty dead cattle. 
They had caught on the top of a hill, but were 
drowned and carried into a creek that had been 
a part of a river. I could see where the river 
had been over the tops of the barns a quarter of 
a mile from the usual bank. A man named Gib- 
son, some miles below Williamsport, lost every 
animal but a gray horse, which got into the loft 
and stayed there, with the water up to his body. 

"A woman named Clark is alive, with six cows 
that she got upstairs. Along the edges of the 
washed-out tracks families with stoves and a few 
thingrs saved are under board shanties. We 



THE JOHNS: TO JFAT FL OOD. 



425 



passed the saw-mill that, by forming a dam, is 
responsible for the loss of the Williamsport 
bridges. The river looked very wild, but Super- 
intendent Westfall and I crossed it in two boats. 
It is nearly half a mile across. Both boats were 
carried some distance and nearly upset. It was 
odd, after wading- throuoh mud into the town, to 
find all Williamsport knowing little or nothing 
about Johnstown or what had been happening 
elsewhere. Mr. Westfall was beset by thousands 
asking about friends on the other side, and in- 
quiring when food can be got through. 

"The loss is awful. There have not been 
many buildings in the town carried off, but there 
are few that have not been damaged. There is 
mourning everywhere for the dead. Men look 
serious and worn, and every one is going about 
splashed with mud. The mayor, in his address, 
says : ' Send us help at once — in the name of 
God, at once. There are hundreds utterly des- 
titute. They have lost all they had, and have 
ho hope of employment for the future. Philadel- 
phia should, if possible, send provisions. Such 
a thing as a chicken is unknown here. They 
were all carried off. It is hard to get anything to 
eat for love or money. Flour is needed worse 
than anything else.' 

" I gave away a cooked chicken and sandwiches 
that I had with me to two men who had had noth- 



A 26 '^^^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

ing to eat since yesterday morning. The flood 
having subsided, all the grim destitution is now 
uncovered. Last night a great many grocery 
and other stores Avere gutted, not by the water, 
but by hungry, desperate people. They only 
took things to eat. 

"A pathetic feature of the loss of life is the 
great number of children drowned. In one case 
two brothers named Youngman, up the river, 
who have a woolen mill, lost their wives and 
children and their property, too, by the bursting 
of the dam. Everything was carried away in the 
night. They saved themselves by being strong. 
One caught in a tree on the side of the mount- 
ain across the river and remained there from Sat- 
urday night until late Sunday, with the river below 
him." 

Among the many remarkable experiences was 
that of Garrett L. Grouse, proprietor of a large 
kindling-wood mill, who is also well known to 
many Philadelphia and New York business men. 
Mr. Grouse lives on the north side of West Fourth 
Street, between Walnut and Gampbell. On Sat- 
urday he was down town, looking after his mill 
and wood, little thinking that there was any flood 
in the western part of the city. At eleven o'clock 
he started to go home, and sauntered leisurely up 
Fourth Street, He soon learned the condition of 
things and started for Lycoming Street, and was 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



427 



soon in front of the Rising Sun Hotel, on Walnut 
Street, wading in the water, which came nearly to 
his neck. Boats passing and repassing refused 
to take him in, notwithstanding that he was so 
close to his° home. The water continued to rise 
and he detached a piece of board-walk, holding 
on to a convenient tree. In this position he 
stayed two hours in the vain hope that a boat 
wo,uld take him on. 

At this juncture a man with a small boat hove 
in sig-ht and came so close that Mr. Crouse could 
touch it. Laying hold of the boat he asked the 
skipper how much he would take to row him down 
to Fourth Street, where the larger boats were 
running. 

" I can't take you," was the reply ; ''this boat 
only holds one." 

" I know it only holds one, but it will hold two 
this time," replied the would-be passenger. "This 
water is getting unpleasantly close to my lower 
lip. It's a matter of life and death with me, and 
if you don't want to carry two your boat will carry 
one ; but I'll be that one." 

The fellow in the boat realized that the talk 
meant business, and the two started down town. 
At Pine Street Mr. Crouse waited for a big boat 
another hour, and when he finally found one he 
was shivering- with cold. The men in the boat en- 
gaged to run him for five dollars, and they started. 



^28 ^'^^ JOHASTOIVN I-LOOD. 

It was five o'clock when they reached their des- 
tination, when they rowed to their passenger's 
stable and found his horses up to their necks in 
the flood. 

" What will you charge to take these two horses 
to Old Oaks Park ? " he asked. 

"Ten dollars apiece," was the reply. 

" I'll pay it." 

They then rowed to the harness room, got the 
bridles, rowed back to the horses and bridled 
them. They first took out the brown horse and 
landed her at the park, Mr Crouse holding her 
behind the boat. They returned for the gray and 
started out with her, but had scarcely left the 
stable when her head fell back to one side. Fright 
had already e-xhausted her. They took her back 
to the house porch, when Mr. Crouse led her up- 
stairs and put her in a bed-room, where she stayed 
high and dry all night. On Sunday morning the 
folks who were cleaning up were surprised to see 
a gray horse and a man backing down a plank 
out of the front door of a Fourth Street residence. 

It was Garrett Crouse and his gray horse, and 
when the neighbors saw it they turned from the 
scene of desolation about them and warmly ap- 
plauded both beast and master. This is how a 
Williamsport man got home during the flood and 
saved his horses. It took him five hours and cost 
him twenty-five dollars. 



THE JOHNSTOWN- FLOOD. 



429 



Mr. James R. Skinner, of Brooklyn, N. Y., 
arrived home after a series of remarkable adven- 
tures in the floods at Williamsport. 

" I went to Williamsport last Thursday," said 
Mr. Skinner, "and on Friday the rain fell as I 
had never seen it fall before. The skies seemed 
simply to open and unload the water. The Sus- 
quehanna was booming and kept on rising rap- 
idly, but the people of Williamsport did not seem 
to be particularly alarmed. On Saturday the 
water had risen to such a height that the people 
quit laughing and gathered along the sides of the 
torrent with a sort of awe-stricken curiosity. 

"A friend of mine, Mr. Frank Bellows, and 
myself went out to see the grand spectacle, and 
found a place of observation on the Pennsylvania 
Railroad bridge. Great rafts of logs were swept 
down the stream, and now and then a house 
would be brought with a crash against the bridge. 
Finally, one span gave way and then we beat a 
hasty retreat. By wading we reached the place 
of a man who owned a horse and buggy. These 
we hired and started to drive to the hotel, which 
is on the highest ground in the city. The water 
was all the time rising, and the flood kept coming 
in waves. These waves came with such fre- 
quency and volume that we were forced to aban- 
don the horse and buggy and try wading. With 
the water up to our armpits we got to an out- 



A-^Q THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

house, and climbing to the top of it made our 
way along to a building. This I entered through 
a window, and found the family in the upper 
stories. Floating outside were two canoes, one 
of which I hired for two dollars and fifty cents. I 
at once embarked in this and tried to paddle for 
my hotel. I hadn't gone a hundred feet when I 
capsized. Going back, I divested myself of my 
coat, waistcoat, shoes, and stockings. I tried 
again to make the journey, and succeeded very 
well for quite a distance, when the canoe sud- 
denly struck something and over it went. I man- 
aged to hold the paddle and the canoe, but every- 
thing else was washed away and lost. After a 
struggle in the water, which was running like a 
mill-race, I got afloat again and managed to lodge 
myself against a train of nearly submerged freight 
cars. Then, by drawing myself against the 
stream, I got opposite the hotel and paddled 
over. My friend Bellows was not so fortunate. 
The other canoe had a hole in it, and he had to 
spend the night on the roof of a house. 

"The trainmen of the Pennsylvania road 
thought to sleep in the cars, but were driven out, 
and forced to take refuge in the trees, from which 
they were subsequently rescued. The Beaver 
Dam mill was moved from its position as though 
it was being towed by some enormous steam 
tug. The river swept away everything that 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. a'^i 

offered it any resistance. Saturday night was the 
most awful I ever experienced. The horrors of 
the flood were intensified by an inky darkness, 
through which the cries of women and children 
were ceaselessly heard. Boatmen labored all 
nio-ht to eive relief, and hundreds were' brouQj'ht 
to the hotel for safety. 

" On Sunday the waters began to subside, and 
then the effects were more noticeable. All the 
provision stores were washed out completely, and 
one of the banks had its books, notes, and green- 
backs destroyed. I saw rich men begging for 
bread for their children. They had money, but 
there was nothing to be bought. This lack of 
supplies is the greatest trouble that Williamsport 
has to contend with, and I really do not see how 
the people are to subsist. 

"Sunday afternoon Mr. C. H. BJaisdell, Mr. 
Cochrane, a lumberman and woodman, a driver, 
and myself started in a wagon for Canton, with 
letters and appeals for assistance. The roads 
were all washed away, and we had to go over the 
mountains. We had to cut our way through the 
forests at times, hold the wagon up against the 
sides of precipices, ford streams, and undergo a 
thousand hardships. After two days of travel 
that even now seems impossible, we got into 
Canton more dead than alive. The soles were 
completely gone from my boots, and 1 had on 



A 'J 2 THE JOFTNSTOIVN FLOOD. 

only my night-shirt, coat, and trousers, which I 
had saved from the flood, A rehef corps was at 
once organized, and sent with provisions for the 
sufferers. But it had to take a roundabout way, 
and I do not know what will become of those poor 
people in the meantime." 

Mr. Richard P. Rothwell, the editor of the New 
York Engineering a^id Mining Journal, and Mr. 
Ernest Alexander Thomson, the two men who 
rowed down the Susquehanna River from Will- 
iamsport, Pa., to Sunbury, and brought the first 
news of the disaster by flood at Williamsport, 
came through to New York by the Reading road. 
The boat they made the trip in was a common 
flat-bottom rowboat, about thirteen feet lone, fitted 
for one pair of oars. There were three men in 
the crew, and her sides were only about three 
inches above the water when they were aboard. 
The third was Mr. Aaron Niel, of Phoenixville, 
Pa. He Js a trotting-horse owner. 

Mr. Thomson is a tall, athletic young man, a 
graduate of Harvard in '87. He would not ac- 
knowledge that the trip was very dangerous, but 
an idea of it can be had from the fact that they 
made the run of forty-five miles in four and one- 
half hours. 

" My brother, John W. Thomson, myself, and 
Mr. Rothwell," he said, "have been prospecting 
for coal back of Ralston. It began to rain on 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ' a-,^ 

Friday just after we got Into Myer's Hotel, where 
we were staying, Tlie rain fell in torrents for 
thirty-two hours. The water was four or five feet 
deep in the hotel when the railroad bridge gave 
way, and domestic animals and outhouses were 
floating down the river by scores. The bridge 
swung around as if it were going to strike the 
hotel. Cries of distress from the back porch 
were heard, and when we ran out we found a 
parrot which belonged to me crying with all his 
might, ' Hellup ! hellup ! hellup ! ' My brother 
left for Williamsport by train on Friday night. 
We followed on foot. There were nineteen 
bridges in the twenty-five miles to Williamsport, 
and all but three were gone. 

" In Williamsport every one seemed to be 
drinking. Men waited in rows five or six deep 
in front of the bars of the two public houses, the 
Lush House and the Concordia, We paid two 
dollars each for the privilege of sleeping In a cor- 
ner of the bar-room. Mr. Rothwell suggested the 
boat trip when we found all the wagons in town 
were under water. The whole town except Sau- 
erkraut Hill was flooded, and it was as hard to 
buy a boat as it was to get a cab during the bliz- 
zard. It was here we met Niel. ' I was a rafts- 
man,' he said, 'on the Allegheny years ago, and 
I may be of use to you,' and he was. He sat in 
the bow, and piloted, I rowed, and Mr. Rothwell 
25 



434 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



Steered with a piece of board. Our danger was 
from eddies, and it was greatest when we passed 
the ruins of bridges. We started at 10.15, and 
made the run to Montgomery, eighteen miles, in 
one and a quarter hours. In places we were go- 
ing at the rate of twenty miles an hour. There 
wasn't a whole bridge left on the forty-five miles 
of river. As we passed Milton we were in sight of 
the race-track, where Niel won a trot the week 
before. The grand stand was just toppling into 
the water. 

"I think I ought to row in a 'Varsity crew now," 
Mr. Thomson concluded. *T don't believe any 
crew ever beat our time " 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 



There was terrible destruction to life and 
property throughout the entire Juniata Valley 
by the unprecedented flood. Between Tyrone 
and Lewistown the greatest devastation was seen 
and especially below Huntingdon at the confluence 
of the Raystown branch and the Juniata River. 
During the preceding days of the week the rain- 
filled clouds swept around the southeast, and on 
Friday evening met an opposing strata of storm 
clouds, which resulted in an indescribable down- 
pour of rain of twelve hours' duration. 

The surging, angry waters swept down the 
river, every rivulet and tributary adding its 
raging flood to the stream, until there was a sea 
of water between the parallel hills of the valley. 
Night only added to the terror and confusion. In 
Huntingdon City, and especially in the southern 
and eastern suburbs, the inhabitants were forced 
to flee for their lives at midnight on Thursday, 

(435) 



^^5 ^-^-^ JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

and by daybreak the chimneys of their houses 
were visible above the rushing- waters. Opposite 
the city the people of Smithfield found safety 
within the walls of the State Reformatory, and 
for two days they were detained under great 
privations. 

Some conception of the volume of water in 
the river may be had from the fact that it was 
thirty-five feet above low-water mark, being eight 
feet higher than the great flood of 1847. Many 
of the inhabitants in the low sections of Hunting- 
don, who hesitated about leaving their homes, 
were rescued, before the waters submerged their 
houses, with great difficulty. 

Huntingdon, around which the most destruc- 
tion is to be seen of any of the towns in the 
Juniata Valley, was practically cut off from all 
communication with the outside world, as all the 
river bridges crossing the stream at that point 
were washed away. There was but one bridge 
standing in the county, and that was the Hunting- 
don and Broad Top Railroad bridge, which stood 
isolated in the river, the trestle on the other end 
being destroyed. Not a county bridge was left, 
and this loss alone approximated ^200,000. 

The gas works were wrecked on Thursday 
nieht and the town was left in darkness. 

Just below where the Juniata and Raystown 
branch meet, lived John Dean and wife, aged 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. .^y 

seventy-seven each, and both blind. With them 
resided John Swaner and wife. Near by hved 
John Rupert, wife and three small children. 
When the seething current struck these houses 
they were carried a half mile down the course of 
the stream and lodged on the ends amid stream. 

The Ruperts were soon driven to the attic, and 
finally, when it became evident that they must 
perish, the frantic mother caught up two bureau 
drawers, and placed her little children In them 
upon the angry waves, hoping that they might be 
saved ; but all in vain. 

The loss of life by the flood in Clinton County, 
in which Lock Haven is situated, was heavy. 
Twenty of those lost were in the Nittany Valley, 
and seven in Wayne Township. Lock Haven 
was very fortunate, as th^ Inhabitants there dwell- 
ing in the midst of logs on the rivers are accus- 
tomed to overflows. There were many sagacious 
Inhabitants who, remembering the flood of 1865, 
on Saturday began to prepare by removing their 
furniture and other possessions to higher ground 
for safety. It was this full and realizing sense of 
the danger that gave Lock Haven such immun- 
ity from loss of life. 

The only case of drowning in Lock Haven was 
of James Guilford, a young man who, though 
warned not to do so, attempted to wade across 
the main street, where six feet of the overflowed 



^^g THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 

river was running, and was carried off by the 
swift current. The other dead inchide WilHam 
Confur and his wife and three children, all car- 
ried off and drowned in their little home as it 
floated away, and the two children of Jacob 
Kashne. 

Robert Armstrong and his sister perished at 
Clintondale under peculiarly dreadful circum- 
stances. At Mackeyville, John Harley, Andrew 
R. Stine, wife and two daughters, were drowned, 
while the two boys were saved. At Salon a, Alex- 
ander M. Uting and wife, Mrs, Henry Snyder were 
drowned. At Cedar Springs, Mrs. Luther S. 
Eyler and three children were drowned. The 
husband was found alive in a tree, while his wife 
was dead in a drift-pile a few rods away. At 
Rote, Mrs. Charles Cole and her two children 
were drowned, while he was saved. Mrs. Charles 
Earner and her children were also drowned, while 
the husband and father was saved. This is a queer 
coincidence found all through this section, that 
the men are survivors, while the wives and chil- 
dren are victims. 

The scenes that have been witnessed in Tyrone 
City during the time from Friday evening, May 
31st, to Monday evening, June 3d, are almost in- 
describable. On Friday afternoon, May 31st, 
telephone messages from Clearfield gave warn- 
ing of a terrible flood at that place, and prepara- 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. . ^q 

tions were commenced by everybody for high 
water, although no one anticipated that it would 
equal in height that of 1885, which had always in 
the past served as high-water mark in Lock 
Haven. 

All of that Friday rain descended heavily, and 
when at eight o'clock in the evening the water 
commenced rising the rain was fallinof in torrents. 
The river rose rapidly, and before midnight was 
over the top of the bank. Its rapid rising was 
the signal for hasty preparations for higher water 
than ever before witnessed in the city. As the 
water continued rising, both the river and Bald 
Eagle Creek, the vast scope of land from mount- 
ain to mountain was soon a sea of foaming water. 

The boom gave away about two o'clock Satur- 
day morning, and millions of feet of logs were 
taken away. Along Water Street, logs, trees, and 
every conceivable kind of driftwood went rush- 
ing by the houses at a fearful rate of swiftness. 
The night was one to fill the stoutest heart with 
dread, and the dawn of day on Saturday morning 
was anxiously awaited by thousands of people. 

In the meantime men in boats were busy dur- 
ing the night taking people from their houses in 
the lower portions of the city, and conveying them 
to places of imagined security. 

VvHien day dawned on June ist, the water was 
Still rising at a rapid ra,te. The city was then 



440 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD, 



completely Inundated, or at least all that portion 
lying east of the high lands in the Third and 
Fourth Wards. It was nearly three o'clock Sat- 
urday afternoon before the water reached the 
hiehest mark. It then was about three feet above 
the high-water mark of 1885. 

At four o'clock Saturday evening the flood be- 
gan to subside, slowly at first, and it was nearly 
night on Sunday before the river was again within 
its banks. Six persons are reported missing at 
Salona, and the dead bodies of Mrs. Alexander 
Whiting and Mrs. William Emenheisen were re- 
covered at Mill Hall and that of a six-year old 
child near by. The loss there is terrible, and the 
community is in mourning over the loss of life. 

G. W. Dunkle and wife had a miraculous 
escape from drowning early Saturday A. M. 
They were both carried away on the top of their 
house from Salona to Mill Hall, where they were 
both rescued in a remarkable manner. A window 
in the house of John Stearn was kicked out, and 
Mr. and Mrs. Dunkle taken in the aperture, 
both thus being rescued from a watery grave. 

Nearby a baby was saved, tied in a cradle. It 
was a pretty, light-haired light cherub, and seem- 
ed all unconscious of the peril through which it 
passed on its way down the stream. The town 
of Mill Hall was completely gutted by the flood, 
entailing heavy loss upon the inhabitants. 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL O OD. . . j 

The town of Renovo was completely wrecked. 
Two spans of the river bridge and the opera- 
house were swept away. Houses and business 
places were carried off or damaged and there was 
some loss of life. At Hamburg seven persons 
were drowned by the flood, which carried away 
almost everything in its path. 

Bellefonte escaped the flood's ravages, and lies 
high and dry. Some parts of Centre County 
were not so fortunate, however, especially in Co- 
burn and Miles Townships, where great destruc- 
tion is reported. Several persons were drowned 
at Coburn, Mrs. Roust and three children among 
the number. The bodies of the mother and one 
child were recovered. 

James Corss, a well-known resident of Lock 
Haven, and Miss Emma Pollock, a daughter of 
ex-Governor Pollock of Philadelphia, were married 
at the fashionable Church of the Holy Trinity, 
Philadelphia, at noon of Wednesday, June 5th. 
The cards were sent out three weeks before, but 
when it was learned that the freshet had cut off 
Lock Haven from communication with the rest 
of the world, and several telegrams to the groom 
had failed to bring any response, it was purposed 
to postpone the wedding. The question of post- 
ponement was being considered on Tuesday even- 
ing, when a dispatch was brought in saying that 
the groom was on his way overland. Nothing 



442 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. 



further was heard from him, and the bride was 
dressed and the bridal party waiting when the 
groom dashed up to the door in a carriage at 
almost noon. 

After an interchange of joyful greetings all 
around, the bride and groom set out at once for 
the church, determined that they should not be 
late. On the way to the church the bride fainted. 
As the church came into view she fainted again, 
and she was driven leisurely around Rittenhouse 
Square to give her a chance to recover. She got 
better promptly. The groom stepped out of the 
carriage and went into the church by the vestry 
way. The carriage then drove round to the main 
entrance, and the bride alighted with her father 
and her maids, and, taking her proper place in 
the procession, marched bravely up the aisle, 
while the organ rang out the well-remembered 
notes of Mendelssohn's march. The groom met 
her at the chancel, the minister came out, and 
they were married. A reception followed. 

The bride and groom left on their wedding-jour- 
ney in the evening. Before they went the groom 
told of his journey from Lock Haven. He said that 
the little lumber town had been shut out from the 
rest of the world on Friday night. He is a wid- 
ower, and, accompanied by his grown daughter, 
he started on his journey on Monday at two 
o'clock. They drove to Bellefonte, a distance of 



THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. ,.^ 

twenty-five miles, and rested there on Monday 
night. They drove to Leedsville on Tuesday 
morning. There, by hiring relays of horses and 
engaging men to carry their baggage and row 
them across streams, they succeeded in reaching 
Lewistown, a distance of sixty-five miles, by 
Tuesday night. At Lewistown they found a di- 
rect train for Philadelphia, and arrived there on 
Wednesday forenoon. 



CHAPTER XL. 

The opening of the month of June will long be 
remembered with sadness and dismay by thou- 
sands of people in New York, Pennsylvania, 
Maryland and the two Virginias. In the District 
of Columbia, too, it was a time of losses and of 
terror. The northwestern and more fashionable 
part of Washington, D. C, never looked more 
lovely than it did on Sunday, but along a good 
part of the principal business thoroughfare, Penn- 
sylvania avenue, and in the adjacent streets to the 
southward, there was a dreary waste of turbid, 
muddy water, that washed five and six feet deep 
the sides of the houses, filling cellars and base- 
ments and causing great inconvenience and con- 
siderable loss of property. Boats plied along the 
avenue near the Pennsylvania Railroad station 
and throuofh the streets of South Washington. A 
carp two feet long was caught in the ladies' wait- 
ing-room at the Baltimore and Potomac station, 
and several others were caught in the streets by 
boys. These fish came from the Government 
Fish Pond, the waters of the Potomac having cov- 
ered the pond and allowed them to escape. 

Along the river front the usually calm Potomac 
was a wide, roaring, turbulent stream of dirty 

444 



THE JOHNS TO IVN FL OD. 445 

water, rushing madly onward, and bearing on its 
swift-moving surface logs, telegraph poles, por- 
tions of houses and all kinds of rubbish. The 
stream was nearly twice its normal width, and 
flowed six feet and more deep through the streets 
along the river front, submerging wharves, small 
manufacturing establishments, and lapping the 
second stories of mills, boat-houses and fertilizing 
works in Georgetown. It completely flooded the 
Potomac Flats, which the Government had raised 
at great expense to a height in most part of four 
and five feet, and inundated the abodes of poor 
negro squatters, who had built their frame shanties 
along the river's edge. The rising of the waters 
has eclipsed the high-water mark of 1877. The 
loss was enormous. 

The river began rising early on Saturday morn- 
ing, and from that time continued to rise steadily 
until five o'clock Sunday afternoon, when the flood 
began to abate, having reached a higher mark than 
ever before known. The flood grew worse and 
worse on Saturday, and before noon the river had 
become so high and strong that it overflowed the 
banks just above the Washington Monument, and 
backing the water into the sewer which empties 
itself at this point, began to flow along the streets 
on the lower levels. 

By nightfall the water in the streets had in- 
creased to such an extent as to make them 



446 THE JOHNSTO IVN FL O OD. 

impassable by foot passengers, and boats were 
ferrying people from the business part of the 
town to the high grounds in South Washington. 
The street cars also continued running- and did a 
thriving business conveying pleasure-seekers, who 
sat in the windows and bantered one another as 
the deepening waters hid the floor. On Louisiana 
avenue the produce and commission houses are 
located, and the proprietors bustled eagerly about 
securing their more perishable property, and 
wading knee-deep outside after floating chicken- 
coops. The grocery merchants, hotel men and 
others hastily cleared out their cellars and worked 
until the water was waist-deep removing their 
effects to higher floors. 

Meanwhile the Potomac, at the Point of Rocks, 
had overflowed into the Chesapeake and Ohio 
Canal, and the two became one. It broke open 
the canal in a great many places, and lifting the 
barges up, shot them down stream at a rapid rate. 
Trunks of trees and small houses were torn from 
their places and swept onward. 

The water continued rising throughout the 
night, and about noon of Sunday reached its 
maximum, three feet six inches above high-water 
mark of 1877, which was the highest on record. 
At that time the city presented a strange spectacle. 
Pennsylvania avenue, from the Peace monument, 
at the foot of the Capitol, to Ninth street, was 



THE JOHNS TO IVN FL OOD. 447 

flooded with water, and in some places it was up 
to the thip-hs of horses. The cellars of stores 

o 

along the avenue were flooded, and so were some 
of the main floors. In the side streets south of 
the avenue there was six to eight feet of water, 
and yawls, skiffs and canoes were everywhere to 
be seen. Communication except by boat was 
totally interrupted between North and South 
Washington. At the Pennsylvania Railroad sta- 
tion the water was up to the waiting-room. 

Through the Smithsonian and Agricultural De- 
partment grounds a deep stream was running, and 
the Washington Monument was surrounded on all 
sides by water. 

A dozen lives lost, a hundred poor families 
homeless, and over ^2,000,000 worth of property 
destroyed, is the brief but terrible record of the 
havoc caused by the floods in Maryland. Every 
river and mountain stream in the western half of 
the State has overflowed its banks, inundating 
villages and manufactories and laying waste thou- 
sands of acres of farm lands. The losses by 
wrecked bridges, v/ashed-out roadbeds and land- 
slides along- the western division of the Baltimore 
and Ohio Railroad, from Baltimore to Johnstown, 
reach half a mihion dollars or more. The Chesa- 
peake and Ohio Canal, that political bone of con- 
tention and burden to Maryland, which has cost 
the State many millions, is a total wreck. The 



448 THE JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 

Potomac river, by the side of which the canal runs, 
from Williamsport, Md., to Georgetown, D. C, 
has swept away the locks, towpaths, bridges, and, 
in fact, everything connected with the canal. The 
probability is that the canal will not be restored, 
but that the canal bed will be sold to one of the 
railroads that have been trying to secure it for 
several years. The concern has never paid, and 
annually has increased its enormous debt to the 
State. 

The Western Maryland Railroad Company and 
the connecting lines, the Baltimore and Harris- 
burg, and the Cumberland Valley roads, lose 
heavily. On the mountain grades of the Blue 
Ridge there are tremendous washouts, and in some 
sections the tracks are torn up and the road-bed 
destroyed. Several bridges were washed away. 
Dispatches from Shippensburg, Hagerstown and 
points in the Cumberland Valley state that the 
damagfe to that fertile farminof reOTon is incalculable. 
Miles of farm lands were submerged by the tor- 
rents that rushed down from the mountains. 
Several lives were lost and many head of cattle 
drowned. At the mountain town of Frederick, 
Md., the Monocacy river, Carroll creek and 
other streams combined in the work of destruc- 
tion. 

Friday night was one of terror to the people of 
that section. The Monocacy river rose rapidly 



THE JOHNS TO WN FL OD. 449 

from the time the rain ceased until last night, 
when the waters began to fall. The back-water 
of the river extended to the eastern limit of the 
city, flooding everything in its path and riding 
over the fields with a fierce current that meant 
destruction to crops, fences and everything in its 
path. At the Pennsylvania Railroad bridge the 
river rose thirty feet above low- water mark. It ^ 
submerged the floor of the bridge and at one 
time threatened it with destruction, but the break- 
ing away of 300 feet of embankment on the north 
side of the bridgre saved the structure. With the 
300 feet of embankment went 300 feet of track. 
The heavy steel rails were twisted by the waters 
as if they had been wrenched in the jaws of a 
mammoth vise. The river at this point and for 
many miles along its course overflowed its banks 
to the width of a thousand feet, submerging the 
corn and wheat fields on either side and carrying 
everything before it. Just below the railroad 
bridge a large wooden turnpike bridge was 
snapped in two and carried down the tide. In ' 
this way a half-dozen turnpike bridges at various 
points along the river were carried away. The 
loss to the counties through the destruction of 
these bridges will foot up many thousand dollars. 
■ Mrs. Charles McFadden and Miss Maggie 
Moore, of Taneytown, were drowned in their car- 
riage while attempting to cross a swollen stream. 
26 



450 THE JOHNS TO WN- EL 0D> 

The horse and vehicle were swept down the stream, 
and when found were lodg^ed ao-ainst a tree. Miss 
Moore was lying half-way out of the carriage, as 
though she had died in trying to extricate herself 
Mrs, McFadden's body was found near the car- 
riage. At Knoxville considerable " damage was 
done, and at Point of Rocks people were compelled 
to seek the roofs of their houses and other places 
of safety. A family living on an island in the 
middle of the river, opposite the Point, fired off a 
gun as a signal of distress. They were with diffi- 
culty rescued. In Frederick county, Md., the losses 
aggregate ^300,000. 

The heaviest damage In Maryland was in the 
vicinity of Williamsport, Washington county. The 
railroads at Hagerstown and Williamsport were 
washed out. The greatest loser is the Cumber- 
land Valley Railroad. Its new iron bridge across 
the Potomac river went down, nothing being left 
of the structure except the span across the canal. 
The original cost of the bridge was ^70,000, All 
along the Potomac the destruction v/as great. At 
and near Williamsport, where the Conococheague 
empties into the Potomac, the loss was very heavy. 

At Falling Waters, where only a few days 
before a cyclone caused death and destruction, 
two houses went down in the angry water, and the 
little town was almost entirely submerged. In 
Carroll County, Md., the losses reached several 



THE JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. 45 I 

hundred diousand dollars, George Derrick was 
drowned at Trevanion Mills, on Pipe creek. 
Along die Patapsco river in Howard county 
great damage was done to mills and private 
property. Near Sykesville the water undermined 
the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad track and a 
freight train was turned over an embankment. 
William Hudson was standing on the Suspension 
Bridge, at Orange Grove, when the structure was 
swept away, apd he was never seen again. 

Port Deposit, near the mouth of the Susque- 
hanna river, went under water. Residents along 
the river front left their homes and took refuge on 
the hills back of the town. The river was filled 
with thousands of logs from the broken booms up 
in the timber regions. From the eastern and 
southern sections of the State came reports of 
entire fruit farms swept away. Two men were 
drowned in the storm by the capsizing of a sloop 
near Salisbury. 

A number of houses on the Shenandoah and 
Potomac rivers near Harper's Ferry were de- 
stroyed by the raging waters which came thunder- 
ing down from the mountains, thirty to forty feet 
higher than low-water mark. John Brown's fort 
was nearly swept away. The old building has 
withstood a number of floods. There is only a 
rickety portion of it standing, anyhow, and that Is 
now covered with mud and rubbish. While the 



452 THE JOHNS TO VVN FL O OD. 

crowds on the heights near Harper's Ferry were 
watching the terrible work of destruction, a house 
was seen coming down the Potomac. Upon its 
roof were three men wildly shouting to the people 
on the hills to save them. Just as the structure 
struck the railroad bridge, the men tried to catch 
hold of the flooring and iron work, but the swift 
torrent swept them all under, and they were seen 
no more. What appeared to be a babe in a cradle 
came floating down behind them, and a few 
moments later the body of a woman, supposed to 
be the mother of the child, swept by. Robert 
Connell, a farmer living upon a large island in the 
Potomac, known as Herter Island, lost all his 
wheat crop and his cattle. His family was rescued 
by Clarence Stedman and E. A. Keyser, an artist 
from Washington, at the risk of their lives. The 
fine railroad bridge across the Shenandoah, near 
Harper's Ferry, was destroyed. The Ferry Mill 
Company sustained heavy losses. 

Along the South Mountains, in Washington 
and Alleghany counties, Md., the destruction was 
terrible. Whole farms, including the houses and 
barns, were swept away and hundreds of live stock 
killed. Between Williamsport, Md., and Dam No. 
6 on the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal twenty-six 
houses were destroyed, and it Is reported that 
several persons were drowned. The homeless 
families are camping out on the hills, being sup- 



THE JOHNS TO IVN FLOOD. 453 

plied with food and clothing by the citizens of 
Williamsport, 

Joseph Shifter and family made a narrow escape. 
They were driven to the roof of their house by the 
rising waters, and just a minute before the struc- 
ture collapsed the father caught a rowboat passing 
by, and saved his wife and little ones. 

The town of Point of Rocks, on the Potomac 
river, twelve miles eastward of Harper's Ferry, 
was half-submerged. Nearly ^100,000 worth of 
property in the town and vicinity was swept away. 
The Catholic Church there is 500 feet from the 
river. The extent of the flood here may be im- 
agined when it is stated that the water was up to 
the eaves of the church. 

The Chesapeake and Ohio Canal has been 
utterly lost, and what formerly was the bed of the 
canal is now part of the Potomac river. There 
were but few houses in Point of Rocks that were 
not under water. The Methodist Church had 
water in its second story. The two hotels of 
which the place boasts, the American and the St. 
Charles, were full of water, and any stranger in 
town had to hunt for something to eat. 

Every bridge in Frederick county, Md., was 
washed away. Some of these bridges were built 
as long ago as 1834, and were burned by the 
Confederate and Union forces at various times in 
1864, afterward being rebuilt. At Martinsburg, 



454 ^-^-^ JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. 

W. Va., a number of houses were destroyed. 
Little Georgetown, a village on the Upper Poto- 
mac, near Williamsport, Md., was entirely swept 
away. 

Navigation on Chesapeake Bay was seriously 
Interrupted by the masses of logs, sections of 
buildings and other ruins afloat. Several side- 
wheel steamers were damaged by the logs strik- , 
ing the wheels. Looking southward for miles 
from Havre de Grace, the mouth of the Susque- 
hanna, and far out into the bay the water was 
thickly covered with the floating wood. Crowds 
of men and boys were out on the river securing 
the choicest logs of hard wood and bringing them 
to a safe anchorage. By careful count it was 
estimated that 200 logs, large and small, were 
swept past Havre de Grace every minute. At 
that rate there would be 12,000 logs an hour. It 
is estimated that over 70,000,000 feet of cut and 
uncut timber passed Havre de Grace within two 
days. Large rafts of dressed white pine boards 
floated past the city. The men who saved the 
logs got from 25 cents to ^i for each log for sal- 
vage from the owners, who sent men down the 
river to look after the timber. Enough logs have 
been saved to give three years' employment to 
men, and mills will be erected to saw up the stuff. 

Not within the memory of the oldest inhabitants 
had Petersburg, Virginia, been visited by a flood 



THE JOHNSTO WN FL OOD. 45 5 

as fierce and destructive as that which surprised 
it on Saturday and Sunday. The whole population 
turned out to see the sight. 

The storm that did such havoc in Virginia and 
West Virginia on Thursday reached Gettysburg 
on Saturday morning. The rain began at 7 o'clock 
Friday morning and continued until 3 o'clock 
Saturday. It was one continuous down-pour during 
all that time. As a result, the streams were higher 
than they had been for twenty-five years. By 
actual measurement the rain-fall was 4.15 inches 
between the above hours. Nearly every bridge 
in the county was either badly damaged or swept 
away, and farmers who lived near the larger 
streams mourn for their fences carried away and 
grain fields ruined. Both the railroads leading to 
the town had large portions of their embankments 
washed out and many of their bridges disturbed. 
On the Baltimore and Harrisburg division of the 
Western Maryland Railroad the damage was 
great. At Valley Junction 1000 feet of the 
embankment disappeared, and at Marsh creek, 
on the new branch of the road to Hagerstown, 
four divisions of the bridge were swept away. 

But at Pine Grove and Mount Holly perhaps 
the greatest damage v/as done. The large Laudel 
dam, which supplies the water to run the forge at 
Pine Grove furnace, and v/hich covers thirty acres 
of land, burst It swept away part of the furnace 



456 THE JOHNS TO WN FLO OD. 

and a house. The occupants were saved by men 
wading in water up to their waists. Every bridge, 
with one exception, in Mount Holly was swept 
away by the flood occasioned by the breaking of 
the dam which furnished water for the paper mills 
at that place. 

The water at Elmira, N. Y., on Saturday night 
was from a foot to a foot and a half higher than 
ever before known. The Erie Railroad bridge 
was anchored in its place by two trains of loaded 
freight cars. The water rose to the cars, which, 
with the bridge, acted as a dam, and forced the 
water back through the city on the north side of 
the Chemung river, where the principal business 
houses are located. The water covered the streets 
to a depth of two or three feet, and the basements 
of the stores were quickly flooded, causing thou- 
sands of dollars of damage. The only possible 
way of entering the Rathbone House, the princi- 
pal hotel of the city and on the chief business 
street, was by boats, which were rowed directly 
into the hotel office. On the south side of the 
river the waters were held in check for several 
hours by the ten-foot railroad embankment, but 
hundreds of families were driven into the upper 
stories of their houses. Late in the evening, two 
thousand feet of the embankment was forced 
away, and the water carried the railroad tracks 
and everything else before it. An extensive ium- 



THE JOHNS TO WN FLOOD. 457 

ber yard in the path of the rushing water was 
swept away. Many horses were drowned, and the 
people Hving- on the fiats were rescued with great 
difficulty by the police and firemen. 

A terrible rain-storm visited Andover, N. Y. 
All the streams were swollen far above hio-h-water 
mark, and fields and roads were overflowed. No 
less than a dozen bridges in this town were carried 
away, and newly planted crops were utterly ruined. 
The water continued to rise rapidly until 4 o'clock. 
At that hour the two dams at the ponds above the 
village gave away, and the water rushed wildly 
down into the village. Nearly every street in the 
place was overflowed, and in many cases occupants 
of houses were driven to the upper floors for 
safety, Owen's large tannery was flooded and 
ruined. Almost every rod of railroad track was 
covered and much of it will have to be rebuilt. 
The track at some points was covered fifteen feet 
with earth. 

At Wellsville, N. Y., the heavy rain raised 
creeks into rivers and rivers into lakes. Never, 
in the experience of the oldest inhabitant, had 
Wellsville been visited with such a flood. Both 
ends of the town were submerged, water in many 
cases standing clear to the roofs of houses. 

Canisteo, N. Y., was invaded by a flood the 
equal of which had never been known or seen in 
that vicinity before. Thursday afternoon a driz- 



458 THE JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. 

zling rain began and continued until it became a 
perfect deluge. The various creeks and moun- 
tain rills tributary to the Caniesto river became 
swollen and swept into the village, inundating 
many of the streets to the depth of three feet 
and others from five to seven feet. The streets 
were scarcely passable, and all stores on Main 
and the adjacent streets were flooded to a 
depth of from one to two feet and much of the 
stock was injured or spoiled. Many houses were 
carried away from their foundations, and several 
narrow escapes from death were made. 

One noble deed, worthy of special mention, was 
performed by a young man, who waded into the 
water where the current was swift and caught a 
baby in his arms as it was thrown from the window 
of a house that had just been swept from its founda- 
tion. 

The Fire Department Building, one of the most 
costly blocks in town, was undermined by the flood 
and the greater part fell to the ground with a 
crash. The town jail was almost destroyed. 

The inundation in the coal, iron and lumber 
country around Sunbury, Penn., occasioned much 
destruction and suffering, while no less than fifty 
lives were lost. The Susquehanna, Allegheny, Bald 
Eagle, Sinnamahoning and Huntingdon Railways 
suffered greatly, and the losses incurred reach, in 
round numbers, ^2,000,000, In Clearfield, Clin- 



THE JOHNSTO WN FLOOD. 459 

ton, Lycoming, Elk, Cameron, Northumberland, 
Centre, Indiana, McKean, Somerset, Bedford, 
Huntingdon, Blair and Jefferson counties the rain- 
storm was one of unprecedented severity. The 
mountain streams grew into great rivers, which 
swept through the country with irresistible fury 
and force, and carried devastation in all directions. 
The destruction in the Allegheny Valley at and 
near Dubois, Red Bank, New Bethlehem and 
Driftwood was immense, hardly a saw-mill being 
left standing-. 



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